DUBLIN    ESSAYS 


DUBLIN  ESSAYS 

BY    ARTHUR     CLERY 


NEW    YORK 

BRENTANO'S 

1920 


Printed  in  Ireland 


TO 
VINCENT    CLARKE 


2061113 


PREFACE 

I  have  called  these,  Dublin  Essays.  They  have 
been  written  and  published  in  this  city  over  a  period 
of  twenty  years,  perhaps  the  most  interesting  years 
in  its  history.  They  deal  with  the  problems  of  politics, 
of  art,  and  of  letters,  as  they  come  to  one  who  works 
in  the  city  and  lives  its  life.  The  revival  of  art  and 
of  national  life  that  Dublin  has  seen  in  the  first  two 
decades  of  the  twentieth  century  has  been  extraor- 
dinary. Those  who  have  lived  through  the  period 
scarcely  realize  it.  A  native  theatre,  a  native  litera- 
ture, and  a  new  courage  of  nationhood  have  been  its 
manifestations.  The  most  sluggish  Irish  heart  has 
felt  a  quicker  pulse.  Unless  the  judgment  of  living 
men  upon  themselves  is  wholly  wrong,  the  age  of 
Pearse  will,  in  after  time,  have  a  glory  like  the 
age  of  Pericles.  These  essays  can  have  only  a 
faint  reflection  of  that  glory,  but  they  have  been 
written  in  the  golden  days.  Such  as  they  are, 
they  embody  the  ideas  of  half  a  lifetime,  ranging 
from  the  hope  and  exuberance  of  the  student  to  the 
more  cynical  and  perhaps  less  true  outlook  of  middle 
life.  Dealing  with  many  topics,  some  of  them  far 
enough  afield,  they  will  be  found  to  have  a  common 
thread.  They  are  an  expression  of  the  thoughts  of 
the  native  Irishman,  by  one  who  is  himself  a  native 
vii 


PREFACE 

Irishman — most  people  who  write  about  Ireland  are 
not.  Except  for  the  last  two,  which  are  now  first 
published,  they  have  appeared  in  the  Press  that 
native  Irishmen  read,  most  of  them  in  The  Leader  or 
Studies;  two  of  them  in  The  Irish  Educational  Review; 
one  of  them  in  the  Irish  Review.  Two  of  the 
essays  deal  with  those  hatreds  which  it  is  thought 
bad  form  and  certainly  bad  policy  to  mention.  But 
it  is  hoped  that  the  reader  will  receive  what  is  new 
in  this  book  with  complacency,  what  is  old  without 
boredom. 

ARTHUR  CLERY. 


Yin 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THOMAS    KETTLE  I 

A   GAELIC   UNIVERSITY  15 

A   FORGOTTEN   VIRTUE  27 

AS    IN    I800  3° 

IS  IRELAND  A  COUNTRY  OR  A  COUNTY?  33 

THE  JUSTICE  OF  THE  BRITISH  DEMOCRACY  36 

COULD  OUR  RELIGION  BE  RUSHED  ?  40 

THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN  IRELAND  44 
THE     PASSING     OF     UNIVERSITY     COLLEGE, 

STEPHEN'S  GREEN  54 

THE  PLAGUE  OF  B.A.'S  58 

THE  SECT  OF  THE  GAEL  62 

RUGBY  FOOTBALL  AND  THE  "  CONDUMNIUM  "  66 

SOME  LIES  OF  EARLY  IRISH  HISTORY  71 

DEMOCRACY  OF  DIALECT  78 

IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH  PROSE  83 

VOTES    FOR   CHILDREN  93 

THE  PSEUDO-SCIENCE  OF  CLASSICS  IOO 

THE  SNOBBERY  OF  QUINTUS  HORATIUS  FLACCUS  106 

THE  THEATRE:   ITS  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE  114 

THE  RELIGIOUS  ASPECT  OF  WOMEN'S  SUFFRAGE  122 

IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE                       '  130 

POLICIES  IN  IRELAND  142 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

Kettle  is  gone.  After  all,  he  was  probably  the 
most  brilliant  mind  of  his  generation,  the  generation 
that  succeeded  Parnell  and  Yeats.  He  had  not 
the  brilliant  originality  of  Griffith,  the  deep  social 
insight  of  Moran — that  clearness  of  vision  that  could 
effect  a  revolution  by  mere  writing,  the  political 
capacity  of  Devlin,  still  less  the  unbending,  Cato- 
like  uprightness  of  his  murdered  kinsman,  Sheehy- 
Skeffington.  His  chance  of  continued  memory  is  of 
course,  far  less  than  that  of  the  patriot  dead  of  Easter 
Week.  He  claimed  no  high  place  as  a  poet ; 
he  certainly  was  not  an  economist.  But  he  had  a 
quality  of  brilliance  proper  to  himself  that  no  one 
else  of  his  time  quite  possessed.  It  might  be  described 
as  a  great  breadth  of  intellect,  combined  with  a 
marvellous  capacity  for  suddenly  mobilizing  the 
whole  of  his  intellectual  forces  upon  a  narrow  front. 
He  never  attempted,  certainly  he  never  carried 
through,  any  work  of  broad  conception  and  full 
achievement  like  that  of  Erskine  Childers  or  of 
Paul-Dubois,  which  he  edited.  Now  and  then  he 
formed  projects,  to  write  a  historical  novel  about 
the  fall  of  Tara,  or  to  publish  a  treatise  on  Irish 
economics  (he  had,  I  think,  made  some  progress  in 
the  latter).  But  at  his  death  he  left  behind  him  only 
two  small  original  works  that  had  attained  to  hard 
covers — The  Open  Secret  of  Ireland,  a  brilliant  pot- 
boiler, and  that  collection  of  supremely  good  essays, 
The  Day's  Burden,  in  which,  with  one  exception,  the 
best  of  him  is  to  be  found.  It  would  be  easy  to 
collect  another  volume  almost  equally  good  from  his 
miscellaneous  writings.1  But  his  literary  output  in 

1  Such  a  volume  has  since  appeared. 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

any  permanent  form  was  a  small  one.  This  is  the 
common  fate  of  brilliant  Irishmen  who  write  to  be 
read  by  other  Irishmen  ;  of  J.  F.  Taylor,  for  instance. 
A  public  much  inclined  to  book-making,  but  steadily 
averse  from  book-buying,  chills  any  long  hope  in  an 
Irish  writer,  and  drives  him  inevitably  to  journalism. 
The  Irishman  who  would  write  for  posterity  must 
write  for  export,  as  Lecky  discovered.  His  case  was, 
indeed,  rather  a  favourite  illustration  with  Kettle. 

The  accepted  principle  of"  De  Mortuis  Mendacia" 
would  be  specially  foolish  in  Kettle's  case.  He  was 
far  too  big  a  man  to  have  his  memory  fobbed  off  with 
that  mendacious  panegyric,  which  is  commonly  the 
meed  of  the  middle-class  dead.  His  character  was 
much  disputed  while  he  lived  ;  and  if  his  memory 
survive,  the  dispute  must  inevitably  survive  with  it. 

That  coloured  speech  which  is  styled  oratory 
is  of  its  essence  a  Swiss  :  it  may  attack  to-morrow 
what  it  defends  to-day.  "  Hannibal "  Plunket,  for 
instance,  delivered  quite  as  cogent  and  imaginative 
an  oration  in  prosecuting  Emmet  as  in  opposing 
the  Union,  or  pleading  for  Catholic  rights. 

This  severe  criticism,  which  Kettle  in  his  last  and 
best  writing,  the  preface  to  the  Irish  Orators,  passes 
upon  the  eighteenth-century  Plunket,  is  certain  to 
form  the  model  for  criticism  upon  himself.  Men  will 
point  out  that  he  began  his  career  by  writing  seditious 
poetry  for  the  United  Irishman,  a  journal  of  which 
the  later  Sinn  Ftin  was  merely  a  milder  recension. 
Most  Irish  writers,  and  certainly  most  Irish  poets, 
begin  in  that  way.  I  doubt  if  Kettle  was  ever,  except 
perhaps  in  his  very  earliest  youth,  a  real  disciple  of 
Emmet ;  he  was  too  much  the  politician.  Like 
many  another  who  believed  himself  to  be  walking 
in  Emmet's  footsteps,  he  got  a  bad  shock  when  he 
came  upon  someone  who  was  not  merely  in  Emmet's 
footsteps,  but  in  his  shoes.  Kettle  was  at  all  relevant 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

times  a  constitutionalist,  with  a  highly  developed 
dramatic  sense;  and  I  am  convinced  that  within  the 
limits  in  which  sincerity  is  at  all  possible  to  a  practi- 
cal politician  Kettle  was,  in  all  his  actions,  thoroughly 
sincere. 

In  the  period  between  the  end  of  the  Parnell  split 
and  Sir  Edward  Carson's  assembling  of  his  Pro- 
visional Government,  which  proved  the  beginning 
of  a  new  era  in  Irish  politics,  three  schools  of 
thought  flourished  among  native  Irishmen.  First, 
there  was  the  orthodoxy  of  the  Irish  Party,  tracing 
its  apostolic  succession  from  Davitt  and  Parnell.  It 
was  powerful  and  popular.  But  its  followers  too 
often  came  to  look  upon  Faith — Faith  in  the  Party 
— as  an  all-sufficient  substitute  for  personal  good 
works.  Over  against  them  were  the  "  good  workers" 
of  various  descriptions — language  revivalists,  indus- 
trial revivalists,  men  who  devoted  themselves  to 
Irish  poetry,  Irish  music,  Irish  pastimes,  Irish 
drama,  or  Irish  Art,  many  of  them  then  looked  upon 
as  heretics,  or  at  least  schismatics  in  matters  politi- 
cal. Of  this  movement,  or  series  of  movements,  to 
which  the  name  "  Irish  Ireland  "  came  to  be  applied, 
Moran  was  the  prophet,  or  as  he  would  put  it  him- 
self, the  philosopher.  But  there  was  also  a  third 
movement,  which  never  advanced  very  far,  but  which 
influenced  many  thinking  minds.  A  casual  observer 
would  describe  it  incorrectly  by  some  such  loose 
adjective  as  "  socialistic.''  It  was  the  effort  to  apply 
cosmopolitan  ideas  of  regeneration  (often  without 
any  very  clear  idea  of  what  they  were)  to  the  social 
conditions  of  Ireland,  more  especially  to  the  social 
conditions  of  its  cities — in  fact,  an  aspiration  towards 
modern  "  progress  "  of  the  less  brutal  kind. 

Kettle's  effort  in  life  was  to  combine  the  first 
school  with  the  third — Party  orthodoxy  with  social 
advance.  He  was,  as  Mr.  Lynd  has  put  it, 
"European "in  his  sympathies.  With  the  second 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

movement,  on  the  other  hand,  with  everything  that 
could  be  described  as  "  Irish  Ireland,"  though  he 
sometimes  gave  it  a  nominal  support  in  words,  he 
had  a  very  minimum  of  agreement.  He  looked  upon 
it  as  insular  and  un-European.  He  was  quite  alive 
to  the  fact  that  his  own  family  was  not  one  of  Gaelic 
race.  He  was  fond  of  playing  cricket.  He  looked 
forward  to  that  progress  which  should  be  borne  to 
Ireland acrossthe  seas.  But  above  all, strange  though 
it  seem  in  a  man  who  was  destined  later  on  to  give  up 
his  life  for  a  cause,  he  had  no  sympathy  with  that 
idea  which  lay  behind  all  "  Irish  Ireland  "  notions, 
that  the  way  to  advance  a  cause  is  by  each  man 
doing  his  own  part,  irrespective  of  his  neighbour's 
backwardness.  Kettle  always  thought  in  multitudes. 
He  sought  for  broad  effects.  If  he  did  a  thing,  he 
blushed  to  find  it  was  not  fame  ;  not  through  vanity 
(he  had  less  of  the  vice  than  the  common  run),  but 
because  he  realized  that  this  was  the  way  to  do  things. 
And  he  had  in  a  high  degree  that  capacity  for  saying 
and  doing  things  in  a  manner  that  attracts  public  atten- 
tion, which  is  the  first  essential  of  political  success. 
With  Kettle  the  idea  of  "  Progress,"  beloved  of  the 
last  century,  was  almost  the  dominant  enthusiasm. 
The  men  of  the  nineteenth  century  had  certainly 
better  reason  to  speak  in  the  name  of  Progress  than 
those  of  our  time.  Kettle  was  beyond  all  else  a 
"modern,"  a  "progressive."  He  hated  the  cynical 
atttitude,  and  had  a  particular  detestation  for  the  ideas 
of  a  man  like  Belloc.  He  believed  in  politics  and  in 
party.  He  was  always  on  the  look-out  for  the 
newest  thinker,  the  freshest  enthusiasm.  He  liked 
German  philosophers  and  Russian  novelists.  He 
had  at  all  times  a  leaning  towards  socialism;  in  a 
celebrated  phrase  he  said  that  he  agreed  with 
everything  in  socialism  except  its  first  principle. 
He  was  by  tradition  a  strong  democrat.  His 
political  ideals  are  brilliantly  expounded  in  his  essay 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

on  the  Philosophy  of  Politics,  in  which,  improving  on 
John  Morley,  he  deals  with  Politics  as  the  science 
of  the  second  worst.  Kettle's  disposition  towards 
things  "  liberal  "  and  "  modern  "  was  so  strong  that 
if  he  had  been  brought  up  in  a  different  religion,  or 
perhaps  even  in  a  different  country,  he  would  not 
improbably  have  been  a  Free  Thinker.  As  it  was, 
like  many  other  Irishmen  of  advanced  social  ideas, 
he  was  a  believing  and  enthusiastic  Catholic.  He 
always  confined  his  social  and  political  enthusiasms 
within  the  limits  of  Catholic  discipline,  though  he 
rather  delighted  to  march  up  to  the  boundary  and 
look  across  the  wall,  or  perhaps  one  should  say — 
for  he  was  a  mountain-climber — to  look  down  from 
the  edge  of  the  cliff.  He  often  shocked  timid  people. 

In  his  private  life  he  had  that  virtue  which  a 
native  Irishman  only  loses  when  exposed  to  foreign 
influences — he  was  a  man  of  the  strictest  purity. 
Indeed,  in  the  many  years  of  my  association  with 
him  I  think  I  never  heard  him  tell  a  doubtful  story 
or  even  make  a  doubtful  remark.  To  another 
different  orthodoxy  he  was  no  less  faithful,  though 
here  again  he  liked  to  walk  upon  the  edge — the 
orthodoxy  of  Party  discipline.  It  was  much  the 
heavier  restriction.  To  a  man  of  Kettle's  idealistic 
temperament  the  discipline  of  the  Irish  Party  in  the 
period  of  his  connection  with  it,  must  often  have 
been  a  severe  strain.  But  he  never  even  considered 
the  idea  of  breaking  away.  He  made  the  best  of  an 
unenthusiastic  lot.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Ancient 
Order  of  Hibernians.  He  confined  his  specufation 
and  his  political  action  alike  within  practical  and 
permissible  limits. 

From  what  has  gone  before  there  is  little  difficulty 
in  understanding  the  enthusiasm  with  which  Kettle 
espoused  the  French  and  British  cause  on  the  out- 
break of  the  war.  They  were  the  champions  of  all 
that  was  progressive  and  modern.  The  Czar  he 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

regarded  as  the  apostle  of  Polish  freedom  :  his  poem 
has  attained  some  celebrity.  For  once  he  was 
wholly  free  to  champion  the  cause  of  what  was 
progressive  and  modern  without  any  fear  of 
incurring  ecclesiastical  censure  or  the  displeasure  of 
party  leaders.  He  threw  himself  heart  and  soul 
into  the  campaign.  Many  men  faced  death  ;  Kettle 
faced  unpopularity,  a  much  harder  thing  for  a 
politician  to  do.  Indeed,  he  probably  looked  upon 
the  sacrifice  of  his  own  life  as  the  lightest  sacrifice 
which  he  was  called  upon  to  make. 

When  I  first  met  Kettle  he  was  a  small  boy  with 
a  treble  voice,  with  his  interests  divided  between 
cycle-racing  and  winning  Intermediate  prizes.  He 
was  good  at  both.  We  came  to  Clongowes  from 
different  day-schools.  As  his  father  had  been 
"detained"  by  Forster  in  the  Frongoch  of  these 
days,  he  was  naturally  a  hot  politician.  His  study 
was  Mathematics !  He  took  German  instead  of 
Greek.  Seeing  that  the  publication  of  Intermediate 
results  is  now  looked  upon  as  a  crime,  almost  fit  to 
be  restrained  by  the  Press  Censor,  it  may  be 
interesting  to  remark  that  Kettle  was  a  "  First  Place 
in  Senior  Grade,"  one  of  three  from  the  same 
school  in  four  years.  He  had  "  Anthony  Wharton," 
the  well-known  dramatist,  and  a  high  public  official 
in  Dublin  as  his  predecessors  in  the  distinction. 
He  played  up  hard  at  the  school  games.  He  used 
to  say  in  later  years  that  his  taste  for  literature 
dated  from  a  "fallow"  year  in  which  he  had  no 
examination ;  indeed  he  constantly  complained  that 
he  had  been  over-worked  at  school.  Dublin  boys 
were  not  very  popular  at  Clongowes,  and,  like  other 
hard-working  students,  Kettle  had  little  influence. 
He  moved  in  a  set  that  devoted  itself  to  cycling. 
His  satirical  humour  had  already  begun  to  develop. 
But  the  most  vivid  recollection  of  him  I  possess  is  a 
speech  at  the  school  debate  in  which  he  maintained 
6 


.THOMAS  KETTLE 

that  the  man  who  died  on  the  battlefield  died  better 
than  the  man  who  died  in  his  bed  with  the  consola- 
tions of  religion.  In  those  days  the  sentiment 
caused  a  sensation  ;  and  he  found  it  necessary  to 
make  a  sort  of  recantation. 

It  was  at  the  University  that  he  first  came  into  his 
own.  His  University  course  was  not  indeed  a 
specially  distinguished  one.  As  the  result  of  bad 
health  and  bad  management  in  choosing  courses  he 
failed  to  repeat  the  academic  distinction  of  his 
school-days.  He  eventually  graduated  in  Philosophy. 
But  he  at  once  became  a  power  among  the  students. 
His  first  achievement  was  characteristic.  Mr.  Pierce 
Kent,  the  present  Secretary  of  the  Insurance 
Commissioners,  who  was  a  friend  of  his,  was  a 
candidate  for  an  elective  position  in  the  religious 
sodality  of  the  students.  Kettle  composed  an 
election  address  and  a  poster,  "  VOTE  for  KENT  and 
CHRISTIANITY,"  which  at  once  carried  the  day. 
Soon  after  Kettle  was  elected  auditor  (as  in  Dublin 
the  student  President  is  called)  of  the  students' 
Literary  and  Historical  Society;  a  few  years  later 
found  him  editor  of  St.  Stephen's,  the  new  college 
paper,  which  was  "  unprejudiced  as  to  date  of 
issue,"  as  its  editor  happily  announced.  It  may  be 
remarked  in  passing  that,  seeing  that  it  was 
popularly  supposed  to  afford  no  true  education 
whatever,  the  old  University  College  of  the  Catholic 
University  succeeded  at  this  period  in  producing  a 
remarkably  large  number  of  persons  who,  to  put  it 
no  higher,  have  got  the  public  to  talk  about  them. 
Trinity  College  has  no  one  but  Hannay  to  show  in 
the  same  epoch. 

The  most  remarkable  episode  of  student  life  with 
which  Kettle  was  connected,  though  only  in  an 
indirect  way,  was  the  famous  seizure  of  the  Uni- 
versity organ  by  the  students  during  Lord  Meath's 
Chancellorship.  Kettle  had  no  part  in  the  actual 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

occurrence ;  he  was  not  even  privy  to  it,  though  it 
is  understood  that  a  detective,  mistaking  him  for 
another  gentleman  of  literary  appearance,  identified 
him  as  having  been  there.  Kettle,  however,  having, 
like  Alan  Breck  Stuart,  the  special  advantage  of 
being  innocent,  immediately  took  up  the  running. 
He  at  once  caught  the  public  fancy  by  a  speech  in 
denunciation  of  the  University  authorities,  in  which  he 
announced  his  intention  of  burning  his  degree  !  The 
upshot  of  the  business  was  that  the  attempt  to  punish 
the  students  failed,  and  the  Chancellor  resigned. 

Kettle's  connection  with  the  College  paper  led  to 
his  founding  an  institution,  which  brought  him  out  at 
his  best,  the  Cui  Bono  Club.  Recruited  mostly  from 
the  staff  of  the  old  paper,  its  dozen  members  met 
periodically  for  the  discussion  of  "  all  subjects  save 
such  as  were  silly  or  indecent."  Kettle  was  the 
Johnson  of  the  Club,  its  acknowledged  dictator  and 
wit.  In  such  circumstances  his  brilliant  parts  showed 
at  their  best — his  lambent  humour, hiscleverdialectic, 
his  extraordinary  personal  charm,  his  marvellous  skill 
in  telling  a  story.  Most  of  its  members  were  clever 
men  with  distinguished  careers,  but  Kettle  was  the 
sun  of  the  firmament.  He  was  in  after  years  greatly 
attached  to  this  little  foundation,  and  looked  upon  it 
as  a  sort  of  oasis  of  friendship  in  the  parched  plain 
of  politics. 

Politics  was  soon  to  claim  him.  His  first  serious 
entry  into  this  field  was  made  in  1905  as  a  political 
journalist,  as  editor  of  the  brilliant  but  short-lived 
Nationist.  After  a  few  cases,  mostly  political 
defences  of  cattle-drivers,  Kettle  wearied  of  the  Irish 
Bar,  to  which  he  had  been  called.  He  had,  indeed, 
manifested  his  old  skill  in  examinations  by  taking  a 
law-prize  at  King's  Inns.  The  only  enduring  result 
of  his  legal  experiences  is  his  clever  sketch  of  an 
assize-court  in  The  Day's  Burden,  from  which  the  fol- 
lowing characteristic  passage  may  be  quoted  : 
8 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

Then,  as  you  look  up  at  the  bench,  your  eye  is 
caught  by  a  veritable  decadent  touch — the  Judge's 
flowers.  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  part  of  the 
ritual  or  not,  but  I  have  never  been  at  Criminal 
Assizes  without  seeing  that  incongruous  bunch  of 
flowers — this  time  they  are  ragged,  white  chrysan- 
themums in  a  vase  of  blue  china — beside  the  inkpot 
in  which  the  judicial  pen  is  dipped  as  it  takes  notes 
of  the  evidence  or  records  the  conviction.  It 
reminds  one  of  Baudelaire's  Fleurs  du  Mai — 
Blossoms  of  Evil. 

But,  after  all,  you  may  expect  anything  of  the 
Judge.  He  is  a  wild  symbolist.  He  wears  scarlet 
to  manifest  the  wrath  of  the  law  and  ermine  for 
the  purity  of  the  law — a  spotted  purity,  to  guess 
from  the  specimen  before  us — and  a  black  cap  by 
times  for  the  gloom  of  death. 

Politics  was  and  continued  to  the  end  to  be  the 
real  enthusiasm  of  Kettle's  life.  For  a  very  short 
time  he  was  attracted  by  Mr.  Arthur  Griffith's 
"Hungarian  "  policy  of  passive  resistance,  to  be  known 
later  by  the  famous  title  of  "  Sinn  Fein."  A  new 
propaganda  always  fascinated  him.  But  he  soon 
conformed  to  Parliamentary  nationalism.  He  was, 
to  all  appearance,  a  sincere  convert.  If  he  ever 
afterwards  had  any  leanings  towards  extreme 
opinions,  the  opposition  he  received  from  Irish 
extremists  in  the  U.S.A.,  when  he  went  there  some 
time  later  as  the  envoy  of  the  Irish  Party,  fixed  him 
in  the  constitutional  view  and  made  him  ever  after- 
wards very  bitter  against  the  extreme  party.  It  is 
interesting  to  note,  however,  that  in  his  "  Philosophy 
of  Politics  "  he  maintains  the  moral  right  of  Ireland 
to  rebel,  "  if  it  were  possible."  This  brilliant  essay, 
already  referred  to,  was  first  read  as  a  presidential 
address  at  the  Young  Ireland  Branch  of  the  United 
Irish  League.  Seldom  has  a  pronouncement  con- 
taining so  much  political  philosophy,  so  many 
9 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

abstract  ideas,  been  read  before  a  branch  of  a 
working  political  organization  in  any  country.  But 
then  the  famous  and  much-abused  "  Young  Ireland 
Branch  "  was  a  political  assembly  of  a  very  unusual 
kind.  This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  the  fortunes 
and  merits  of  that  ever  storm-tossed  foundation.  It 
is  sufficient  to  point  out  that  the  youthful  Kettle 
had  the  merit  or  responsibility  of  being  its  founder. 
Kettle's  fortune  was  exceptional  in  one  way.  He 
was  the  only  young  man  of  abstract  ideas  (or  at 
least  with  a  capacity  for  expressing  such  ideas)  to 
make  his  way  into  the  Irish  party  since  the  Parnell 
split.  The  men  of  this  type  belonging  to  his  genera- 
tion for  the  most  part  turned  their  energies  into 
other  channels  and  became  either  indifferent  or 
openly  hostile  to  the  Irish  Party.  Kettle's  amazing 
success  in  Parliament  shows  what  a  man  of  ideas 
can  achieve  if  he  is  once  allowed  to  get  a  start. 
A  young  and  unknown  man,  without  influence  or 
political  backing,  he  began  to  take  his  place  with 
men  like  Redmond,  Balfour  and  Asquith  as  a 
debater.  He  made  an  immense  impression  upon 
Young  England,  an  England  that  was  unfortunately 
never  destined  to  grow  up.  Of  course  I  cannot 
speak  at  first-hand  of  this  period  of  his  career,  which 
began  in  1906,  but  the  secret  of  his  Parliamentary 
success  would  seem  to  be  that  he  threw  aside  tradi- 
tional clap-trap  and  thought  out  at  least  new  modes 
of  expression  for  himself.  His  early  mathematical 
training  also  came  to  his  aid,  and  he  showed  an 
unusual  command  of  figures.  The  Irish  University 
Bill  was  the  Parliamentary  measure  with  which  his 
name  will  be  especially  connected.  But  a  man  in 
the  twenties  only  attains  success  of  this  kind  at  the 
price  of  much  jealousy  and  ill-feeling,  and  Kettle 
was  by  no  means  the  man  to  allay  feelings  of  that 
sort.  For  he  was  neglectful  of  the  smaller  courtesies 
of  life,  and  he  was  not  at  all  an  easy  man  to  work  with. 
10 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

He  had  accepted  a  professorship  in  the  new 
National  University,  for  the  establishment  of  which 
he  had  worked  hard.  As  the  subject  (National 
Economics)  was  off  the  beaten  track,  he  had  few 
students  and  the  duties  were  not  heavy.  There 
seemed,  however,  to  be  a  certain  inconsistency 
between  holding  a  whole-time  professorship  and 
being  a  Member  of  Parliament ;  so,  after  a  short 
interval,  he  sent  in  his  resignation  to  the  Irish  Party. 
It  is  now  generally  understood  that  he  had  counted 
upon  the  Party  taking  a  line  in  this  matter  which 
would  enable  him  to  withdraw  his  resignation  and 
remain  in  Parliament.  But  if  he  had  any  such  hope, 
he  was  destined  to  a  severe  disappointment.  He 
was  allowed  to  go.  (Grattan,  as  a  politician,  says 
Kettle,  in  his  last  writing,  "  committed  the  two 
deadly  sins,  which  are  to  sulk  and  to  retire")  From 
this  forth  Kettle's  career  was  simply  a  career  of 
despair.  One  or  two  hopeless  attempts  to  get  back 
into  politics  only  served  to  darken  the  gloom.  A 
man  familiar,  as  he  was,  with  the  realities  of  politics 
could  never  devote  himself  to  the  nonsense  of  politi- 
cal economy.  "  Economics,"  he  used  to  say,  "  is 
not  a  science,  but  a  series  of  controversies  with  a 
fixed  terminology."  You  cannot  expect  strength 
of  character  from  a  man  broken  with  despair.  Some 
of  his  former  political  associates  must  have  felt 
strangely  when  at  the  last  Kettle  became  the  martyr 
of  their  principles. 

Apart  from  that  quality  of  intellectual  concentra- 
tion already  referred  to,  Kettle's  greatest  literary 
asset  was  an  intense  brilliancy  of  phrase.  In  this 
he  had  something  of  the  skill  of  Grattan  or  Tacitus. 
Speaking  of  Grattan,  he  might  have  spoken  of 
himself  when  he  said: 

The  epigrammatist,  too,  and  the  whole  tribe  of 
image-makers   dwell    under  a  disfavour    far  too 
ii 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

austere.  We  must  distinguish.  There  is  in  such 
images  an  earned  and  an  unearned  increment  of 
applause.  The  sudden,  vast,  dazzling,  and  deep- 
shadowed  view  of  traversed  altitudes  that  breaks 
on  the  vision  of  a  climber,  who,  after  long  effort, 
has  reached  the  mountain-top,  is  not  to  be  grudged 
him.  And  the  image  that  closes  up  in  a  little  room 
the  infinite  riches  of  an  argument  carefully  pursued  is 
not  only  legitimate  but  admirable. 

As  with  A  Kempis,  so  you  will  best  appreciate 
Kettle  if  you  read  but  four  or  five  of  his  sentences  at 
a  time,  the  five  just  quoted  for  instance.  You  can 
make  them  the  subject  of  a  long  mediation.  Often 
a  single  sentence  of  his  is  enough  to  stand  by  itself. 
"  Cynicism,  however  excusable  in  literature,  is  in 
life  the  last  treachery,  the  irredeemable  defeat." 
Or  again — "It  is  with  ideas  as  with  umbrellas:  if 
left  lying  about  they  are  peculiarly  liable  to  change 
ownership."  There  is  always  a  combination  of  the 
sardonic  and  the  imaginative  in  his  writings,  a  kind 
of  eloquence  that  is  the  more  effective  for  being 
eternally  self-critical.  Consider  this  description  of 
an  orator : 

The  sound  and  rumour  of  great  multitudes, 
passions  hot  as  ginger  in  the  mouth,  torches, 
tumultuous  comings  and  goings,  and,  riding 
through  the  whirlwind  of  it  all,  a  personality, 
with  something  about  him  of  the  prophet,  some- 
thing of  the  actor,  a  touch  of  the  charlatan, 
crying  out  not  so  much  with  his  own  voice  as 
with  that  of  the  multitude,  establishing  with  a 
gesture,  refuting  with  a  glance,  stirring  ecstacies 
of  hatred  and  affection — is  not  that  a  common, 
and  far  from  fantastic,  conception  of  the  orator. 
But  when  the  fire  is  become  ashes,  and  the  orator 
too ;  when  the  crowd  no  longer  collaborates ; 
when  the  great  argument  that  transfigured  them 

12 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

is  a  paragraph  in  a  text  book,  yawned  over  by 
schoolboys.  .  .  ." 

This  is  Kettle  at  his  best.  Or  take  again  this 
short  and  brilliant  description  of  the  State.  Like 
the  modern  composer  who  deliberately  introduces  a 
discord,  Kettle  gets  his  effect  by  the  misuse  of  a 
single  word  : 

The  State  is  the  name  by  which  we  call  the 
great  human  conspiracy  against  hunger  and  cold, 
against  loneliness  and  ignorance;  the  State  is  the 
foster-mother  and  warden  of  the  arts,  of  love,  of 
comradeship,  of  all  that  redeems  from  despair 
that  strange  adventure  that  we  call  human  life. 

One  other  quotation  will  show  him  in  a  political 
vein.  It  is  from  his  article,  "  On  crossing  the  Irish 
Sea": 

Ireland  has  been  finally  conquered  at  least  three 
times;  she  has  died  in  the  last  ditch  three  times; 
she  has  been  a  convict  in  the  dock,  a  corpse  on 
the  dissecting  table,  a  street-dog  yapping  at  the 
heels  of  empire,  a  geographical  expression,  a 
misty  memory.  And  with  an  obtuseness  to  the 
logic  of  facts  which  one  can  only  call  mulish,  she 
still  answers  "  Adsum."  Her  interdicted  flag  still 
floats  at  the  masthead,  and,  brooding  over  the 
symbol,  she  still  keeps  building  an  impossible 
future  on  an  imaginary  past.  English  parties  in 
turn  wipe  her  for  ever  off  the  slate  of  practical 
politics.  .  .  .  New  battalions  loom  up  to -the 
right  wing  or  the  left ;  and  the  Tory  press  remem- 
bers the  phrase  of  the  Confederate  general  .... 
"There  comes  that  damned  green  flag  again  !  " 

You  must  go  to  Swift  himself  if  you  would  find 
one  to  surpass  Kettle  in  that  peculiarly  Irish  quality, 
sardonic  enthusiasm. 

13 


THOMAS  KETTLE 

Kettle's  greatest  defect,  if  in  a  politician  it  be  a 
defect,  was  an  almost  complete  incapacity  for  appre- 
ciating the  point  of  view  of  an  opponent.  Many  of 
his  speeches  that  "  stirred  ecstacies  of  hatred  "  are 
to  be  so  explained.  One  could  not  find  a  better 
example  of  this  weakness  than  his  chapter  on  Ulster 
in  that  otherwise  clever  work,  The  Open  Secret  of 
Ireland.  His  treatment  of  the  subject  is  tremend- 
ously unfair ;  it  is  simply  a  collection  of  brilliant 
insults,  "  annual  brain-storm,"  and  the  rest,  each 
cleverer  and  more  unjustified  than  the  one  going 
before  it.  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  a  man  of  the 
very  greatest  personal  magnanimity.  He  often 
required  magnanimity  in  others;  he  always  showed 
it  himself.  He  had  never  the  least  difficulty  in 
making  up  with  an  opponent  however  bitterly  they 
might  have  quarrelled.  When  William  O'Brien, 
the  subject  of  his  bitterest  satire,  for  a  time  rejoined 
the  Irish  Party,  Kettle  was  quite  sincere  in  declaring 
that  the  past  was  not  only  a  sealed  book,  but  a  burnt 
book.  And  it  is  but  a  few  months  ago  since, 
chancing  to  meet  him  at  an  intimate's  house,  he 
had  a  very  friendly  interview  with  Eoin  MacNeill. 

The  last  time  I  met  Kettle  was  a  few  weeks  after 
Easter  1916.  He  was  driving  in  military  uniform 
on  a  car  with  his  little  daughter,  and  stopped  it  to 
speak  to  me.  I  congratulated  him  on  his  preface  to 
the  Irish  Orators.  But  his  whole  conversation  was 
of  MacDonagh  and  the  others  who  had  been  put  to 
death  in  Low  Week,  of  the  fortitude  they  had  shown. 
He  felt  very  bitterly,  and  he  spoke  of  their  fate  with 
that  wistfulness  which  Mr.  Lynd  also  noticed.  I 
think  there  must  have  been  a  time  in  his  life  when 
he  looked  forward  to  die  as  they  had  died.  He  died 
in  a  different  way  and  for  a  different  cause.  But  the 
idea  of  final  self-sacrifice  was  as  much  a  haunting 
desire  with  him  as  it  was  with  Patrick  Pearse. 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

There  must  be  few  things  which  an  ordinary  man 
finds  it  harder  to  believe  in  than  Universities.  They 
seem  to  him  collections  of  persons,  whose  energy  is 
less  than  the  average,  whose  practical  capacity  is 
enormously  less.  Their  labours  have  no  result  visible 
to  the  naked  eye.  Football  and  boat-races,  or,  in 
other  countries,  duelling  clubs,  with  an  occasional 
glimpse  of  infirm  old  men  in  queer  gaudy  costumes 
complete  the  concept.  And  this  is  the  sort  of  thing 
he  is  called  upon  to  reverence  and,  what  is  worse,  to 
pay  for.  The  answer  usually  given  is  to  point  to  the 
great  importance  attached  by  sane  and  sensible  men 
in  America,  Germany,  and  other  countries  to  the 
provision  of  University  education.  But  there  is  a 
still  better  argument,  the  great  importance  that  was 
attached  in  our  own  country  to  not  providing  it.  It 
was  men  equally  sane,  and  in  a  narrow  sense  equally 
sensible,  who  made  it  the  settled  policy  and  business 
of  their  lives  to  deprive  the  great  bulk  of  the  native 
population  of  Ireland  of  any  reasonable  facilities  for 
higher  education  for  over  three  centuries,  who  after 
two  centuries  of  open  bigotry  throughout  the  third 
were  satisfied  to  assert  that  the  provision  of  educa- 
tion for  one  hundred  odd  persons  was  a  supply 
sufficient  to  meet  a  demand  which  we  now  know 
to  have  been  that  of  nearly  two  thousand  students. 

These  things  did  not  happen  in  the  distant  past, 
or  even  in  the  eighteenth  century.  It  is  only  within 
our  own  life  time,  that  in  conditions  the  most 
hampered  and  degrading  that  can  be  imagined  it 
was  for  the  first  time  made  possible  for  an  Irish 

15 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

Catholic  to  possess  a  University  degree  and  a 
conscience  at  the  same  time.  The  men  thus 
educated  have  taken  a  big  part  among  the  newer 
generation  in  the  events  of  our  time.  It  is  less  than 
ten  years  ago  since  the  long  continued  campaign  to 
exclude,  or  practically  exclude  the  native  population 
of  this  island  from  higher  education  definitely  failed, 
a  campaign  of  exclusion  which  many  men  made  the 
eager  and  long-sustained  enthusiasm  of  their  lives, 
which  broke  ministers,  which  drove  governments 
from  office.  No  greater  testimony  can  surely  be 
given  to  the  importance  of  University  education  in 
Ireland  than  that  those  who  sought  our  degradation 
should  have  thought  it  of  such  high  importance  to 
prevent  it. 

The  denial  of  higher  education  to  those  who 
formed  the  bulk  of  the  native  population,  though  in 
later  days  it  seemed  an  isolated  anachronism,  was 
once  part  of  a  great  and  broad  policy,  a  policy  set 
forth  in  two  volumes.  When  the  long  denial  of 
higher  education  to  Catholics  was  ended,  we  had 
only  come  to  the  end  of  the  last  chapter  of  the  first 
volume.  The  policy  as  originally  contemplated 
was  to  bring  about  unity  of  religion  and  unity  of 
language  in  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland.  The 
attempt  to  bring  about  religious  unity  between 
England  and  Scotland  soon  failed.  The  effort  to 
enforce  religious  unity  between  England  and  Ireland, 
with  consequences  that  men  of  all  religions  now 
admit  to  have  been  disastrous,  continued  down  to  a 
fairly  recent  date.  It  is  less  than  half  a  century 
since  it  was  definitely  given  up;  indeed  the  results 
of  the  economic  pressure,  applied  during  two  cen- 
turies to  bring  it  about,  endure  down  to  our  own  day. 
We  are  not,  however,  concerned  to  discuss  them  here. 
We  have  to  deal  rather  with  the  second  volume,  the 
other  half  of  the  policy,  the  determination  to  enforce 
unity  of  language  in  the  three  countries. 
16 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

In  this  endeavour  State  Policy  has  been  far  more 
successful.  It  has  often  been  said  that  it  is  hard  to 
conceive  a  system  of  persecution  worse  than  that 
inflicted  upon  those  who  practised  the  Catholic 
religion  in  Ireland.  Bourke's  description  of  the 
Penal  Laws,  "a  machine  of  wise  and  elaborate 
contrivance ;  and  as  well  fitted  for  the  oppression, 
impoverishment,  and  degradation  of  a  people  .  .  . 
as  ever  proceeded  from  the  perverted  ingenuity  of 
man,"  has  become  a  commonplace.  It  is  indeed 
hard  to  imagine  anything  worse.  But  if  anything 
may  be  put  beside  it,  it  is  the  vigorous  persecution 
of  those  who  practise  the  Irish  language  as  their 
native  tongue,  a  persecution  whose  severity  is  only 
less  evident  in  our  day  because  it  has  come  so  near 
to  achieving  its  end,  because  there  is  nowadays  so 
little  resistance,  because  there  are  so  few  Irish 
speakers  left  to  persecute.  No  doubt  an  Irish- 
speaking  man  who  speaks  no  other  language  than 
Irish  is  not  liable  to  have  his  land  taken  from  him 
by  his  son  who  conforms  to  English.  He  can  own 
freehold  property  or  a  horse  worth  more  than  five 
pounds.  He  can,  if  nominated  (though  any  court 
would  be  slow  to  appoint  him)  act  as  guardian  of 
his  relative's  property.  So  far  his  position  is  better 
than  that  of  the  Catholic  in  the  eighteenth  century. 
But  only  so  far.  An  Irish  speaker  who  is  only  an 
Irish  speaker,  is  debarred  from  all  public  employ- 
ments whatever,  even  the  humblest,  except  perhaps 
that  of  a  private  soldier.  He  could  not  be  a  police- 
man. Possibly  he  could  obtain  employment  as  a 
scavenger.  He  cannot  be  a  barrister,  doctor, 
solicitor,  engineer  or  chemist.  He  could  not  in 
practice  belong  to  the  ministry  of  any  church,  unless 
indeed  he  were  sent  abroad  in  early  youth.  No 
commercial  position  is  open  to  him  except  perhaps 
that  of  a  country  shop  assistant,  and  scarcely  even 
this.  No  education  of  any  kind  whatever  is  avail- 
c  17 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

able    for    him,    unless   on    condition    of   studying 
English,  which  usually  means  conforming  to  it. 

There  are  no  hedge  schools.  He  might  just  possibly 
be  educated  abroad,  if  there  were  money  for  it,  which 
of  course  there  is  not.  There  is  not  one  single  school 
for  Irish  speakers  in  the  island  of  Ireland.  But  from 
the  Irish  speaker's  point  of  view  the  matter  is  worse 
than  this.  Attendance  at  schools  where  English  is 
taught  is  compulsory.  And  as  the  employment  of 
torture  is  well  recognized  as  a  daily  incident  of  all 
primary  and  secondary  education,  Irish  children 
have  been  literally  tortured  out  of  speaking  Irish,  a 
process  continued  for  a  century.  A  blow  a  word 
was  the  tariff.  Irish  has  been  forced  from  the  lips 
of  Irish  boys  by  whipping  their  bodies.  If  a  man 
should  regard  the  exclusive  use  of  Irish  as  essential 
to  his  salvation,  his  position  would  be  no  better  than 
that  of  the  eighteenth  century  Catholic.  Nor  is 
there  anything  surprising  in  a  man  looking  on  Irish  as 
essential  to  his  salvation.  There  are  in  all  human 
probability  a  great  many  Irishmen  in  hell,  as  I 
write,  who  would  not  be  there  if  they  had  known 
no  other  language  than  Irish.  The  only  develop- 
ment of  the  language  situation  in  our  time  has  been 
that  of  a  greatly  decreased  resistance,  in  other  words, 
of  the  almost  complete  success  of  the  persecution. 
About  a  century  ago  something  like  three-fourths 
of  the  Irish  people  were  Irish  speakers.  Nowadays 
the  number  of  those  whose  exclusive  language  is 
Irish  has  been  reduced  to  a  few  thousands.  If 
Polish  were  the  language,  and  these  things  were 
done  in  Poland — perhaps  like  things  used  to  be 
done.  But  the  persecution  can  scarcely  have  been 
so  unmitigated.  In  the  circumstances  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  the  use  of  Irish  as  a  native  language  has 
declined. 

Some  such  discussion  as  this  having  arisen  at  a 
meeting,  I  once  heard  that  strong  Unionist,  the  late 
18 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

Lord  Justice  Fitzgibbon,  give  this  as  an  answer : 
"  Who  gave  up  Irish  ?  Wasn't  it  the  Irish  them- 
selves ? "  The  suggestion  has  a  fractional  truth,  but 
it  has  no  more.  In  all  the  matters  of  which  I  have 
spoken  no  representative,  that  is,  no  popularly  elected 
Irish  body  has  ever  had  the  smallest  say.  Before 
we  blame  the  Irish  people  for  the  state  of  things 
described,  we  must  consider  how  infinitesimal  is  the 
representative  element  in  Irish  government.  Outside 
the  narrow  sphere  of  local  government  some  degree 
of  hostility  to  popular  opinion  is  indeed,  in  practice, 
a  condition  precedent  to  the  exercise  of  any  public 
function  whatever  in  Ireland.  Almost  the  only 
educational  matter  on  which  Irish  elected  bodies  have 
ever  had  a  say  has  been  the  question  of  "  Essential 
Irish  "  in  the  University. 

But  the  real  question  is  not  how  Irish  was  lost, 
but  how  it  is  to  be  regained.  How  are  we  to  get 
back  our  old  tongue  thus  niched  from  us  ?  Many 
different  systems  of  teaching  and  study  have  been 
suggested.  Personally  I  believe,  and  I  thus  come  to 
the  real  subject  of  the  article,  that  you  can  never 
make  a  man  Irish  speaking  by  merely  teaching  him 
Irish,  no  matter  what  method  you  adopt.  In  this 
Irish  does  not  differ  from  other  languages.  I  may 
be  pardoned  a  personal  reminiscence.  Like  other 
classical  students,  I  devoted  thirteen  or  fourteen 
years  to  the  severe  study  of  Latin  and  Greek,  my 
living  depending  on  it  most  of  the  time.  And  yet  I 
can't  speak  two  sentences  of  either  language,  and 
I  never  met  a  classical  student  who  either  could  or 
would.  The  greatest  Greek  scholar  of  modern  times 
is  said  to  have  confessed  that  he  could  not  read  a 
Greek  play  with  anything  like  the  same  ease  as  a 
daily  newspaper.  And  if  I  had  been  smattering  at 
Greek  and  Latin  by  the  various  easy,  improved, 
rational,  direct,  phonetic,  up-to-date,  etc.,  methods 
by  which  I  have  been  nibbling  at  Irish  for  the  past 

19 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

twenty  years,  I  really  don't  believe  the  case  would 
be  much  better.  In  practice  I  fancy  I  could,  as  the 
result  of  a  couple  of  mountain-climbing  holidays  and 
a  phrase-book,  make  almost  a  better  hand  of  German, 
which  I  never  was  taught  at  all.  When  the  mountains 
are  selir  schwer,  the  day  ziemlich  heiss,  and  you 
develop  an  almighty  thirst  for  kalte  ungekochte  milch 
or  etwas  bier,  as  the  case  may  be,  these  are  realities. 
In  the  same  way  the  only  Irish  over  which  I  have 
any  real  hold  is  the  small  talk  of  an  Irish  college. 
tAinip  ?  TlA&Aif  45  An  r5O|uii-6e.ACc  ?  -An 
^c  pinnce  ?  t)6i~6  A  tuille  c6  A$AC  ?  tD^inne 
DO  Coil  6 — -Agup  pu-OAi  mAp  fin.  These  also 
are  realities,  thoughts,  not  mere  words.  It  is  no 
good  learning  to  speak  a  language.  You  must  learn 
to  think  it. 

Mention  has  been  made  of  Latin  and  Greek. 
Take,  then,  the  case  of  an  ecclesiastical  student  who 
has  done  his  studies  in  Latin.  That  man  has  a  real 
hold  on  Latin.  His  acquirements  are  in  most  cases 
far  inferior  to  those  of  an  average  classical  scholar. 
He  probably  does  not  know  a  single  emendation  to 
Horace  or  to  Aeschylus.  He  stills  looks  upon  these 
writers  as  a  poet  and  a  playwright  respectively.  He 
is  quite  unable  to  tell  you  the  rule  of  syntax  which 
led  Cicero  to  end  his  sentence  with  a  subjunctive — 
"  esse  videatur."  But  within  the  domain  of  his 
studies  in  the  world  of  philosophy  and  theology 
such  a  student  will  think  in  Latin.  Philosophical 
and  theological  ideas  will  present  themselves  to  him 
in  the  language  in  which  he  has  learnt  them.  He 
will  even  find  it  a  matter  of  difficulty  to  translate 
them  into  any  other.  That  is  to  say,  he  will  have 
a  grasp  of  Latin,  which  no  classical  scholar  ever 
has,  because  what  he  has  been  learning  is  not  Latin 
but  other  things  through  the  medium  of  Latin. 

If  this  illustration  seems  to  wander  afar  it  is  merely 
to  drive  in  this  truth,  the  basis  of  these  proposals 
20 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

that  if  you  want  to  make  a  man  Irish  speaking,  you 
must  first  make  him  Irish  thinking,  that  is,  you  must 
teach  him  not  so  much  Irish  itself  as  other  things 
through  Irish.  If  you  do,  he  will  at  any  rate  within 
the  ambit  of  his  education  speak  Irish,  as  a  native 
speaker  does,  not  because  he  feels  he  ought  to,  but 
because  he  wants  to,  because  it's  "  easier."  He  will 
suffer  from  none  of  that  strain  in  Irish  speaking, 
which  is  very  often  noticeable  even  in  the  case  of 
enthusiastic  speakers  of  the  langnage,  who  begin 
their  conversation  or  their  letters  with  a  few 
sentences  of  Irish,  like  a  grace  before  meals,  till  at 
last  the  surface-tension  gives  way  and  they  sink  back 
into  English.  There  is  very  little  true  bilingualism 
in  the  world.  A  visit  to  Switzerland  or  Belgium — 
countries  thought  to  be  bilingual — or  indeed  to  our 
own  Irish  speaking  districts  will  show  this  at  once. 
A  man  may  possess  many  languages,  but  he  owns 
only  one.  If  Irish  is  ever  to  be  revived,  we  must 
face  a  sacrifice,  we  must  drop  English,  not  indeed 
necessarily  as  a  language  of  study  and  acquirement, 
any  more  than  we  need  drop  school  French,  but  as 
a  language  of  ordinary  use  in  daily  life.  As  long  as 
we  continue  to  speak  broken  English — that  is  all  we 
do  speak — with  anything  like  our  present  facility,  we 
shall  never  become  Irish  speaking  much  less  Irish 
writing.  There  is  a  notable  difference  of  principle 
in  these  matters  between  the  Gaelic  Athletic  Asso- 
ciation and  the  Gaelic  League,  perhaps  inevitable 
in  the  circumstances.  With  the  G.A.A.  a  Gael 
means  a  man  who  plays  Gaelic  football  and  hurley, 
and  no  other  like  game  whatever.  But  if_a  man 
played  "  soccer  "  six  days  in  the  week,  Rugby  occa- 
sionally, and  Gaelic  only  in  odd  intervals  of  time, 
he  would  be  as  much  a  Gael  as  the  best  of  us  are  in 
language  matters. 

Of  course  the  Gaelic  League  set  out  to  achieve 
a  stupendous  task.     At  the  beginning  of  this  article 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

I  but  faintly  indicated  the  difficulties  in  its  way. 
The  wonder  really  is  that,  in  less  than  a  generation, 
it  has  achieved  so  much.  Even  if  the  Gaelic  League 
should  wholly  fail  in  its  main  object,  it  would  have 
been  of  incalculable  benefit  to  the  country.  Yet 
though  the  study  and  knowledge  of  Irish — even  a 
little  Irish — may  have,  and  has  had,  the  most 
beneficial  results,  moral,  intellectual,  and  political, 
for  Irishmen,  something  else  is  needed  if  we  are  to 
revive  the  Irish  language.  Irishmen  must  learn  to 
think  in  Irish;  within  certain  limits  they  must  put 
away  English.  To  spread  Irish  thought  is  a  task  of 
great  difficulty,  in  face  of  the  determined  efforts  that 
have  been  made,  and  the  still  persistent  measures 
that  are  adopted — I  have  indicated  their  nature — to 
prevent  its  spreading.  Seeing  that  those  against  us 
are  so  strong,  so  well  entrenched,  it  might  seem  that 
the  way  to  start  the  counter-attack  was  at  the  bottom 
in  the  primary  school.  But  in  this  case  the  paradox 
is  the  true  wisdom.  Ideas  never  begin  at  the  bottom. 
They  come  from  above.  An  educational  system,  if 
one  may  use  the  figure,  rests  on  its  top.  The  men 
who  permitted  Catholics  to  open  primary  schools, 
but  for  a  century  refused  them  University  Education, 
saw  this  truth  very  clearly.  They  recognized  that 
a  University  was,  or  at  least  should  be,  the  heart  of 
acivilization — sending  a  pulse  through  all  its  arteries. 
They  hated  the  civilization.  If  Gaelic  thought  is 
ever  to  be  revived  and  our  old  speech  thus  to  be 
made  a  living  language  through  the  country,  some- 
thing of  this  kind  is  necessary.  A  Gaelic  University, 
a  University  dealing  with  all  subjects  in  the  Irish 
language,  might  be  the  centre  of  an  intellectual 
Gaelic  revival. 

We  have  numerous  Gaelic  colleges,  most  of  them 

admirable  institutions.     They  are  perhaps  the  most 

satisfactory   achievement   of  the   Irish   revival,  but 

they  all  fall  short  of  what  I  mean.     Except  in  rare 

22 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

instances,  they  confine  themselves  to  teaching  Irish 
and  methods  of  language  study,  which  is  indeed  the 
business  for  which  they  were  established.  A  Gaelic 
University  must  have  a  wider  curriculum.  It  must 
go  on  to  teach  other  subjects — Philosophy,  History, 
Economy,  Science,  Music — through  the  medium  of 
Irish.  It  should  teach  men  to  think  and  to  think 
highly  in  Gaelic ;  such  a  foundation  has  formed  the 
centre  of  many  language  revivals,  of  the  revival  of 
the  Czech  language  in  Bohemia,  to  take  a  single 
instance.  There  is  nothing  fantastic  or  chimerical 
in  advocating  such  a  foundation  for  Ireland.  Once 
Irishmen  are  convinced  of  its  value,  there  will  be 
little  difficulty  in  setting  it  up. 

The  Gaelic  College  with  which  we  are  all  familiar 
might  be  made  the  pattern  for  the  more  ambitious 
establishment  of  a  University.  Now  Irish  Colleges 
conform  to  two  types;  on  the  one  hand  you  have 
the  Summer  College,  and  on  the  other  the  College 
open  all  the  year,  which  trains  its  students  by  evening 
lectures.  Such  celebrated  foundations  as  Ballin- 
geary,  Ring,  Spiddal,  Omeath,  and  Cloghaneely  are 
of  the  former  type.  The  Leinster  College,  the 
Dublin  College  of  Modern  Irish,  and  the  successful 
Colleges  in  Cork  and  Belfast  of  the  latter.  The 
reason  that  Gaelic  study  has  assumed  these  forms 
is  that  people  who  study  Irish  are  usually  earning 
their  daily  bread  in  some  manner  and  cannot  afford 
to  suspend  the  process  during  their  period  of  study. 
A  Gaelic  University,  if  it  were  to  be  a  practical  pro- 
position, must  be  conducted  either  as  a  Summer 
College  or  by  night  lectures.  It  need  not  suffer  in 
efficiency  on  that  account.  The  man  who  studies 
in  his  time  of  leisure  is  a  man  of  character. 

A  question  which  must  be  decided  on  the 
threshold  is  whether  our  new  Gaelic  University 
should  be  entirely  independent,  or  should  be  con- 
nected with  one  of  our  existing  Universities,  or 

23 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

University  Colleges,  receiving  its  degrees,  adding  to 
and  sharing  in  its  prestige.  The  matter  is  one  for 
debate,  but  the  history  of  the  Catholic  University 
would  seem  to  point  strongly  in  favour  of  the  latter 
course.  Such  sections  of  the  Catholic  University  as 
were  not  able  to  confer  a  recognized  degree  or  qualifi- 
cation proved  a  relative  failure,  while  its  medical 
faculty  in  which  a  recognized  qualification  was 
available  was  a  distinct  success.  Suppose  for  the 
moment,  then,  that  it  was  determined  to  connect 
the  new  Gaelic  institution  with  an  existing  Uni- 
versity College,  and  to  adopt  the  "Summer  College" 
pattern,  Galway  College,  with  its  pleasant  site  and 
Irish  atmosphere — Irish  is  spoken  by  native  speakers 
up  to  the  gates  of  the  College — would  inevitably  be 
the  place  to  select.  The  term  might  be  from  June 
to  October,  while  most  of  the  ordinary  students  and 
professors  are  away.  In  an  article  some  years  ago 
in  The  Leader,  which  worked  out  the  scheme  in 
detail,  I  showed  how  it  could  be  done  for  about 
£1,000  a  year.  An  initial  endowment  of  about 
£5,000  would  probably  be  sufficient.  While  they 
are  waiting  for  that  line  of  cross-Atlantic  steamers, 
that  does  not  seem  to  turn  up,  perhaps  the  men  of 
Galway  might  consider  the  question.  You  can  have 
a  Gaelic  University  for  a  fraction  of  the  cost  of  one 
steamer,  and  it  will  bring  as  many  people  from 
Ireland  as  the  steamer  will  from  America. 

The  other  alternative — and  the  alternatives  are  by 
no  means  exclusive,  both  could  be  attempted  together 
— is  to  work  by  night  lectures,  on  the  model  of  the 
Dublin,  Belfast,  and  Cork  Gaelic  Colleges.  Here 
there  is  a  clear  opening  for  University  education 
which  the  Irish  movement  can  seize.  Cardinal 
Newman's  establishment  of  night  lectures,  leading 
to  a  degree,  at  the  old  Catholic  University  was,  so 
it  has  always  seemed  to  me,  one  of  the  noblest  acts 
in  his  career.  He  is  in  truth  one  of  the  very  few 

24 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

strangers  to  whom  we  in  Ireland  owe  gratitude.  To 
have  established  these  lectures — everyone  knows  that 
beautiful  conference  in  which  he  proclaimed  their 
establishment — may  have  seemed  a  small  thing. 
Yet  in  what  it  implied  it  was  a  very  great  thing. 
Remember  who  Newman  was.  If  ever  man  could 
claim  the  title,  he  was  the  flower  of  English  Univer- 
sity culture,  a  culture  highly  refined  but  fiercely 
exclusive.  By  establishing  facilities  for  University 
education  for  the  man  who  was  working  for  his  daily 
bread,  whom  poverty  or  family  need  had  sent  forth 
to  earn  an  early  living,  Newman  broke  with  all  the 
traditions  of  his  time.  He  cast  aside  the  Reforma- 
tion and  the  Renaissance,  and  went  back  to  the 
broader  and  nobler  ideas  of  the  Middle  Ages,  when 
daily  toil  and  the  highest  learning  were  not  looked 
upon  as  incompatible,  when,  in  fact,  the  greatest 
minds  of  the  monastic  world  regarded  the  one  as  the 
complement  of  the  other.  It  was  the  Renaissance 
and  Reformation  civilization  which  first  made 
learning  the  special  preserve  of  wealth,  which 
divorced  it  from  labour.  And  if  in  most  modern 
countries  we  find  below  a  certain  point  an  immense 
populace  without  clothes,  without  food,  without 
faith,  the  phenomenon  is  closely  connected  with 
that  policy  which  has  made  higher  learning  the 
preserve  of  the  moneyed  classes.  Newman,  as  I 
have  said,  definitely  broke  with  this  policy.  Within 
the  restricted  limits  in  which  it  was  possible  for  him, 
he  threw  open  the  doors  of  learning,  and  many  men, 
living  and  dead,  with  honoured  names  received  their 
education  at  his  classes,  what  time  they  worked  for 
their  daily  bread.  The  institution  which  he  thus 
established  continued  for  over  fifty  years;  for  it  was 
later  kept  on  by  the  Jesuits  when  they  came  after 
him.  It  most  unfortunately  fell  through  on  the 
establishment  of  the  new  University. 

I  have  suggested  that  there  is  here  an  opening  for 

25 


A  GAELIC  UNIVERSITY 

the  Irish  movement.  Of  course,  in  what  I  say  I 
speak  only  for  myself.  This  is  how  I  see  it.  As 
we  know,  there  has  been  a  strong  movement  to 
re-establish  the  night  lectures  again  ;  the  University 
convocation  has  frequently  moved  in  the  matter. 
But  so  far  only  very  partial  success  has  been  attained. 
Several  causes  have  worked  against  the  movement. 
But  if  the  night  lectures  were  to  be  delivered  in 
Gaelic,  many  objections  that  might  otherwise  arise 
would  be  removed.  There  could,  for  instance,  be 
no  question  of  compelling  the  professors  to  do  two 
shifts  in  the  day.  The  lectures  in  the  Gaelic  founda- 
tion must  be  delivered  by  assistants,  enthusiastic 
young  men — who  would  qualify  themselves  for  the 
purpose.  I  believe  there  would  not  be  the  least 
difficulty  in  obtaining  such  a  staff  if  the  thing  were 
once  set  on  foot.  It  would  indeed  serve  as  a  train- 
ing ground  for  the  day  portion  of  the  University. 
It  may  be  urged  that  it  is  a  hardship  to  ask  even 
night  students  to  attend  their  lectures  in  Gaelic. 
But  being  matriculated,  they  have  all  ex  hypothcsi 
passed  a  qualifying  examination  in  Irish.  A  very 
little  more  should  make  them  able  to  follow  lectures 
in  Gaelic.  A  clerical  student,  with  a  parallel  qualifi- 
cation in  Classics,  goes  forth  to  attend  lectures  in 
Latin  at  Rome,  or  Paris,  or  Salamanca.  The  cost 
of  such  a  foundation  would  be  quite  moderate.  Its 
results  would  be  out  of  all  proportion  to  its  cost ; 
for  it  would  mean  that  the  first  great  step  had  been 
taken  towards  freeing  the  Irish  mind,  the  rebirth  of 
Gaelic  thought  from  the  womb  of  a  Gaelic  University. 


26 


A  FORGOTTEN  VIRTUE 


Patriotism,  an  internal  principle  of  order  and  unity,  an  organic 
bond  of  the  members  of  a  nation,  was  placed  by  the  finest 
thinkers  of  Greece  and  Rome  at  the  head  of  the  natural 
virtues.  .  .  .  And  the  religion  of  Christ  makes  of  patriotism  a 
positive  law;  there  is  no  perfect  Christian  who  is  not  also  a 
perfect  patriot. 

If  I  am  asked  what  I  think  of  the  eternal  salvation  of  a  brave 
man  who  has  consciously  given  his  life  in  defence  of  his  country's 
honour,  and  in  vindication  of  violated  justice,  I  shall  not  hesitate 
to  reply  .  .  .  that  death  accepted  in  this  Christian  spirit  assures 
the  safety  of  that  man's  soul.— Cardinal  Merrier. 

I  wish  these  words  of  a  great  Churchman  were 
put  up  in  every  schoolroom  of  Ireland,  beside  the 
Ten  Commandments.  Cardinal  Mercier's  famous 
pastoral  must  have  astonished  many  people  in  this 
country,  many  religious  people.  To  their  surprise 
they  discovered  the  existence  of  a  wholly  new  virtue 
— patriotism.  Hitherto  they  had  regarded  it  as  some- 
thing between  a  joke  and  a  rather  pardonable  short- 
coming: they  spelt  patriot  with  a  "  h."  Now  they 
discover  you  may  be  damned  for  want  of  patriotism  ; 
that  Sadleir  committed  perhaps  a  less  crime,  when 
he  took  poison,  or  Pigott  when  he  shot  himself  than 
when  each  of  them  sold  his  country.  For  that  is  what 
Mercier  means,  if  he  means  anything.  And  the 
pronouncement  of  this  Belgian  Croke  is  all  the  more 
important  in  that  the  de  facto  Government  ~of  his 
country  was,  of  course,  violently  unpatriotic,  when  his 
words  were  written,  so  that  no  Erastian  taint  can 
infect  them. 

I  have  headed  this  article  "A  Forgotten  Virtue." 
I  believe  it  has  almost  been  forgotten  in  Ireland 
that  patriotism  is  a  Christian  virtue.  I  know  a  man 
27 


A  FORGOTTEN  VIRTUE 

who  has  taken  a  great  part  in  political  Catholic 
work  in  Ireland,  who  is  fond  of  saying  that  morality 
in  this  country  is  run  on  one  Commandment,  like  a 
wheel-barrow.  This  is  of  course  a  wild  exaggera- 
tion. But  it  expresses  the  fact  that  there  are 
perhaps  some  chapters  of  Christian  obligation  to 
which  we  in  Ireland  are  inclined  to  afford  a  rather 
hurried  glance.  One  of  these  is  patriotism.  I  have 
been  looking  through  the  Maynooth  catechism,  the 
whole  gospel  of  religious  life  for  so  many  in  Ireland. 
The  word  patriotism  does  not,  I  think,  occur  in  it, 
nor  even  the  idea,  in  any  clear  way.  The  nearest  it 
seems  to  get  to  it  is  in  referring  to  Ireland  as  being 
"  our  island "  or  at  least  as  having  been  "  our 
island  "  in  the  year  432  A.D. 

I  wonder  if  it  ever  occurs  to  people  in  Ireland  that 
you  cannot  lead  a  Christian  life  if  you  leave  out  one 
virtue  altogether,  that  you  cannot  atone  by  any 
degree  of  formal  piety  for  such  an  omission.  Suppose 
a  man  living  in  grave  moral  sin  were  to  go  to  Bene- 
diction with  great  regularity  and  be  assiduous  in  his 
attendance  at  sermons  we  should  view  his  conduct 
with  disgust.  If  a  man  has  got  a  job  by  selling  his 
country,  to  instance  the  commonest  form  of  anti- 
patriotism,  what  are  we  to  think  of  him  when  he 
turns  devotional,  as  he  usually  does  in  Ireland  ?  If 
Mercier  is  right,  the  man  is  living  in  sin. 

Or  again,  take  that  old  man  to  be  found  in  one  or 
more  of  the  secondary  schools  in  Ireland,  who  has 
devoted  his  life  to  suppressing  the  patriotic  impulses 
of  his  students,  to  turning  them  away  from  the  study 
of  Irish,  to  training  them  for  jobbery  and  emigration, 
what  will  God  say  to  such  a  man  when  he  comes 
before  the  judgment  seat,  let  him  have  been  ever  so 
devout,  if  Mercier  is  right  ?  Will  he  be  sent  to  hell 
for  his  anti-patriotism?  How  many  young  lives 
must  such  a  man  have  blasted  by  quenching  that 
spark  of  patriotism  that  would  have  kept  their  ideals 
28 


A  FORGOTTEN  VIRTUE 

pure  and  their  spirits  upright.  How  many  public- 
house  loungers  or  worse  have  to  thank  such  an 
anti-patriot  for  their  degradation? 

It  has  always  struck  me  as  surprising  that  our  big 
Colleges  take  with  entire  equanimity  the  fact  that 
a  substantial  portion  of  their  students,  as  they  would 
express  it  themselves,  "go  to  hell"  within  ten  or 
twenty  months  after  leaving  them.  It  is  clearly  a 
direct  result  of  their  training.  Does  this  happen  to 
boys  of  the  same  ages  from  the  Christian  schools  to 
the  same  extent.  I  have  seldom  met  a  boy  from  the 
Christian  schools  who,  whatever  his  other  defects, 
had  not  a  really  deep  religious  faith  and  a  true  purity. 
I  am  told  (I  have  not  had  the  same  opportunity  ot 
making  observations)  by  employers  of  labour  and 
others,  that  at  the  other  end  a  similar  difference  may 
be  observed  between  boys  trained  by  the  Christian 
Brothers  and  boys  trained  in  the  National  Schools. 
The  former  have  the  Christian  virtues.  For  all  this 
there  may  be  several  explanations.  But  I  suggest 
that  one  is  that  the  virtue  of  patriotism  has  never 
been  omitted  from  the  list  by  the  Christian  Brothers. 
It  is  a  grave  thing  to  train  a  man  in  life  and  leave 
out  even  one  virtue,  especially  if  it  be  the  organic 
body,  the  principle  of  order  and  unity. 

Christianity  must  be  accepted  as  a  whole.  Christ 
Himself  chose  to  come  before  us  as  a  patriot.  His 
Crucifixion  was  brought  about  by  one  of  the  meanest 
crews  of  anti-patriots  that  history  has  ever  seen. 

In  conclusion,  I  may  point  out  that  this  article  is 
written  throughout  on  an  assumption.  It  assumes 
throughout  that  Ireland  is  our  country. 


29 


AS  IN  1 800 

(Written  in  the  winter  1914-1915.) 

We  have  the  Freeman  of  a  hundred  years  ago. 
What  a  pity  we  have  not  the  Independent.  If  we 
had  a  file  of  the  pages  from  1780  to  1810  (supposing 
it  to  have  existed  in  those  times)  it  would  surely 
make  interesting  reading ;  Lord  Clare's  efforts  on 
behalf  of  the  Empire  against  French  militarism  ; 
Mr.  Grattan's  latest  speech  ;  Wolfe  Tone's  letter 
on  the  back  page.  The  present  situation  is  singularly 
like  that  in  the  last  twenty  years  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  the  day  of  Irish  Independence,  in  which 
Liberalism  was  to  find  itself  finally  submerged  and 
extinguished  in  a  European  war.  You  have  first 
the  black  days  of  Irish  slavery,  in  which  the  spark 
of  a  constitutional  movement  begins  to  glimmer. 
It  soon  becomes  a  fire  that  sweeps  the  country. 
Then  come  the  Volunteers  and  the  Irish  are  strong. 
(It  was  principally  an  affair  of  Palesmen,  yet,  poli- 
tically and  economically,  it  was  for  Ireland  as  a 
whole.)  The  cause  of  Ireland  triumphs.  Liberty 
is  won,  in  so  far  as  freedom  can  be  built  of  paper. 
The  Act  of  Renunciation  guarantees  Irish  liberty, 
as  the  Home  Rule  Act  guarantees  it  to-day.  And 
the  Volunteers  are  there  to  make  it  a  reality.  But 
the  politicians  grow  afraid  of  the  Volunteers ;  an 
armed  force  does  not  square  with  their  political 
theory.  The  patriot  party  in  the  Volunteers,  led 
by  the  Protestant  Bishop  of  Derry,  are  defeated  at 
the  Rotunda  Convention,  and  the  Volunteers,  still 
numerous,  become  but  a  splendid  shell,  with  the  soul 
gone  out  of  them.  The  more  vigorous  spirits  keep 

30 


AS  IN  1800 

the  soul  but  lack  the  body.  Forsaking  constitu- 
tional paths — for  the  Volunteers  were  a  strictly 
constitutional,  and  in  the  best  sense  a  loyal  organiza- 
tion— they  become  "United  Irishmen."  The  country 
does  not  follow  them. 

All  this  happened  in  the  days  of  the  Irish  Parlia- 
ment in  the  space  of  a  few  years.  We  have  seen  it 
happen  in  the  space  of  one,  with  this  difference,  that 
in  the  present  instance  Catholics,  with  a  handful  of 
Protestants,  were  the  actors,  instead  of  Protestants 
with  a  handful  of  Catholics.  Will  the  sequel  in  our 
time  be  different  ?  What  ensued  in  the  time  of  the 
Irish  Parliament  is  shortly  told.  Once  the  national 
forces  were  broken  up  or  enfeebled,  Irish  liberty  was 
at  the  mercy  of  its  enemies.  Lord  Clare  and  his 
Orangemen  played  their  part.  The  very  patriotic 
enthusiasm  of  the  "  United  Irishmen"  which  made 
them  enemies  of  the  Irish  Parliament  and  Consti- 
tution, helped  to  bring  about  the  catastrophe.  The 
red  flag  appeared  in  the  national  ranks,  and 
frightened  the  respectable  classes.  War  without 
and  a  rising  within  terrified  men's  minds  and  ruined 
the  influence  of  the  constitutional  leaders.  Reaction 
and  military  outrage  reigned  supreme.  In  vain 
Grattan  proposed  to  re-assemble  the  Volunteers, 
when  it  was  too  late.  Soon  the  Irish  flag  was 
lowered  in  Dublin,  and  the  Union  Jack  floated  in 
its  place.  Grattan  left  for  Westminister  to  denounce 
Napoleon  and  make  fruitless  efforts  on  behalf  of 
Catholic  emancipation.  There  is,  as  I  have  said,  a 
striking  resemblance  between  the  two  situations. 
Few  things  seem  more  certain  than  that  the  enemies 
of  Irish  liberty  are  waiting  the  opportunity  for  their 
counter-stroke  now,  as  they  did  then.  Their 
acceptance  of  paper  Home  Rule  has  been  too 
ready  to  be  permanent.  Such  a  counter-stroke  is 
in  such  circumstances  almost  an  axiom  of  politics. 
And  when  it  is  delivered  in  six,  or  twelve,  or 

31 


AS  IN  1800 

twenty  months  from  now,  in  what  plight  will  the 
Irish  forces  be  found  ?  The  prospect  is  not  pleasant. 
The  same  symptoms  of  corruption  are  appearing  in 
the  Press  as  in  the  days  that  preceded  the  fall  of  the 
Irish  Parliament ;  there  are  even  some  signs  of  their 
extending  to  public  life.  By  alienating  their  more 
enthusiastic  members,  the  constitutional  leaders  have 
emasculated  the  national  forces.  The  official 
Volunteer  movement  must  inevitably  perish  for 
want  of  aim  and  enthusiasm.  Napoleon's  phrase 
about  the  importance  of  moral  factors  applies  as 
much  to  Volunteers  as  to  regular  soldiers.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  action  of  the  dissident  enthusiasts, 
like  that  of  the  "  United  Irishmen,"  will  probably 
play,  unintentionally,  into  the  hands  of  Irish  enemies. 
Cut  off  from  the  body  of  the  nation,  they  must  tend  to 
become  ever  more  and  more  extreme  in  theirviewsand 
actions.  Finally,  I  suppose  some  outrageous  wrong 
will  be  put  upon  John  MacNeill,  and  he  will  then 
become  a  national  hero,  before  whose  shrine  future 
generations  of  Whigs  will  drop  a  grain  of  incense 
as  they  pass  in  to  dinner.  Twenty  years  hence  there 
will  be  appreciative  articles  about  him  in  the 
Saturday  Telegraph  and  the  Cork  Weekly  Examiner. 
The  constitutionalists  will  call  out  for  Volunteers 
when  it  is  too  late,  and  find  there  are  none.  You 
cannot  resist  Carson  with  a  company  of  Crown 
Prosecutors. 


IS  IRELAND  A  COUNTRY  OR  A 
COUNTY? 

I  ended  my  last  essay,  but  one,  by  saying  that  it  was 
based  on  the  assumption  that  Ireland  was  our  country. 
This  was  not  sarcasm.  It  was  a  very  necessary 
reservation.  At  the  moment  of  writing1  probably  a 
majority  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  island  do  not 
believe  Ireland  to  be  their  country;  and,  taking 
Mercier's  doctrine  to  be  right,  it  is  just  this  fact  that 
will  save  many  of  them  from  hell,  a  sort  of  invincible 
ignorance.  For  the  man  who  believing  Ireland  to  be 
his  country  is  false  to  the  duties  of  patriotism,  is  to 
be  numbered  with  the  murderer  and  the  adulterer. 

But  there  are  a  great  many  minds  into  which  the 
idea  that  Ireland  is  their  country,  the  centre  and  the 
focus  of  patriotic  effort  and  emotion,  has  never 
entered  ;  into  which  it  could  not  enter.  This  is  the 
case  with  the  vast  majority  of  Protestants.  Ireland 
a  nation  seems  to  them  as  ridiculous  and  evil  as 
Purgatory  or  convents.  It  is  not  that  they  do  not 
love  Ireland,  every  stone  in  it.  They  look  upon  it  as 
their  county;  they  love  it  as  a  Corkman  loves  the 
Mardyke  and  unstraightened  Patrick  Street.  But 
they  regard  a  proposal  to  give  it  a  separate  parlia- 
ment and  government  with  much  the  same  feelings 
that  the  average  Irishman  would  regard  a  proposal 
by  Mr.  William  O'Brien  to  give  Cork  a  separate 
parliament,  an  attitude  of  derision  verging  into. 
speechless  indignation,  as  the  outrage  seemed  to 
come  within  the  bounds  of  possibility. 


33 


IS  IRELAND  A  COUNTRY  OR  A  COUNTY? 

No  man  can  have  two  countries,  certainly  not  if 
the  idea  of  country  has  attached  to  it  the  grave 
obligations  to  which  Mercier  and  other  thinkers  bear 
witness.  What  a  man  looks  upon  as  his  country 
usually  appears  from  the  language  he  uses.  If  he 
looks  upon  Ireland  as  his  country  he  will  use  such 
words  as  "nation,"  "national,"  "patriotic,"  "our 
country,"  "our  history,"  and  the  collective  "we,"  as 
referring  to  his  country,  Ireland.  If,  like  the  Irish 
Protestant,  he  looks  upon  Ireland  as  merely  his 
county,  he  will  use  these  words  with  some  other 
reference.  His  collective  sense  will  not  go  beyond 
football  matches — Rugby  football  matches. 

A  country  is  a  land  inhabited  by  a  nation.  I  think 
it  was  George  Wyndham  who  said  that  the  proof 
that  Ireland  was  a  nation  was  that  men  were  ready 
to  die  for  her.  He  was  not  an  Irishman;  nor  did  he 
die  for  Ireland.  Yet  he  came  near  enough  to  both  to 
taste  the  splendid  bitterness  of  patriotism.  The 
blood  of  her  martyrs  has  been  the  testimony  of  Ire- 
land's national  faith.  That  strange  lamp  of  love 
has  kept  alight  through  seven  black  centuries.  Who 
ever  yet  died  for  a  county?  Who  would  go  forth  to 
shed  his  blood  for  a  county  council? 

To  Protestants  Ireland  has  long  been  a  county 
and  no  more — a  unit  of  racing  or  Rugby  football.  A 
thin  line  of  stern  Protestant  patriots  has  at  all  times 
stood  apart  from  the  views  of  the  overwhelming 
majority;  they  have  not  shaken  them.  But  the 
astounding  thing  is  that  from  half  to  a  third  of  the 
Irish  Catholics  have  now  of  a  sudden  come  round  to 
the  Protestant  view.  They  still  want,  or  profess  to 
want,  or  even  hope  for,  a  county  council  in  College 
Green — an  Irish  Parliament  without  an  Irish  nation 
would  be  no  more — but  they  have  in  reality  accepted 
the  Protestant  standpoint ;  they  hold  the  Protestant 
language.  To  them,  Ireland  is  neither  country  nor 
nation.  The  ^««st-patriotism  of  the  East  Ulster 

34 


IS  IRELAND  A  COUNTRY  OR  A  COUNTY? 

man  for  Ulster  is  an  immeasurably  deeper  and 
stronger  feeling  than  is  theirs  for  what  they  once 
thought  to  be  their  country. 

Since  the  time  of  the  Protestant  Reformation,  no 
such  fundamental  change  upon  so  vital  a  principle 
has  ever  been  carried  out  so  quickly — O'Connor's 
curve.  In  the  one  case  as  in  the  other  the  strange 
suddenness  is  apparent  rather  than  real.  In  the 
case  of  the  Protestant  Reformation,  the  immoralities 
and  infidelities  of  the  Renaissance  had  long  been 
sapping  at  the  minds  that  seemed  of  a  sudden  to 
lose  the  Catholic  Faith.  In  our  time  we  have  seen 
a  parallel  process.  When  Croke  made  his  famous 
prophecy  about  the  effects  of  English  pastimes,  he 
was  only  a  few  years  out  of  his  reckoning.  Men 
laughed  at  us  when  we  said  cricket  was  the  enemy, 
music-hall  songs  were  the  enemy,  Sunday  papers 
were  the  enemy.  We  were  told  you  could  be  Irish 
without  Irish.  Now  the  thing  is  done.  The  explo- 
sion has  followed  the  long  undermining.  The 
Protestant  Reformation  was  not  the  work  of  the 
people,  it  was  the  work  of  a  body  of  politicians  and 
of  a  well-to-do  middle  class,  influential  enough  to 
make  their  voice  heard  on  behalf  of  the  whole 
nation,  to  suppress  the  life-long  devotion  of  the 
silent  poor.  And  the  change  appeared  for  a  time  a 
small  one.  The  same  clergy  prayed  in  the  same 
churches.  Only  the  language  seemed  to  have  altered. 
Changes  that  are  vital  and  fundamental  are  often 
the  last  to  be  perceived. 


35 


THE  JUSTICE  OF  THE  BRITISH 
DEMOCRACY 

(Written  in  1907) 

"  Ireland's  chances  of  political  redemption  lay  in 
the  strength  of  the  appeal  which  she  might  be 
able  to  make  to  the  deep  sense  of  justice  which 
undoubtedly  existed  in  the  hearts  of  the  British 
Democracy."  I  have  forgotten  the  name  of  the 
gentleman  who  spoke  these  words,  if  I  ever  knew 
it.  He  presided  at  a  recent  Home  Rule  meeting. 
A  chairman  thus  reported  must  display  striking 
brilliancy  in  his  address  to  induce  you  to  enter  on 
the  tedious  task  of  unravelling  his  identity.  This 
chairman  was  just  an  ordinary  Englishman, 
supremely  important  as  a  sample,  highly  uninterest- 
ing as  a  unit.  He  expressed  the  views  of  the  ordinary 
Englishman  about  his  own  moral  qualities — those 
views  that  he  has  found  it  so  difficult  to  induce 
the  rest  of  humanity  to  accept — clearly  and  con- 
cisely. A  Senator  lecturing  the  Sugambri  or  the 
Helvetians  on  the  clemency — nota  ilia  et  antiqua — 
of  the  Roman  people  could  not  have  done  it  better. 
He  even  put  into  a  phrase  one  of  the  methods  of 
obtaining  self-government  that  has  often  been  pro- 
pounded in  this  country.  Perhaps  I  did  wrong  to 
belittle  his  abilities.  It  is  because  I  believe  his 
statement  has  a  sort  of  antipodean  importance,  as 
being  diametrically  the  opposite  of  the  truth  that  I 
have  placed  it  at  the  head  of  my  essay. 

Ireland  has,  in  my  view,  absolutely  nothing  to 
hope  from  the  sense  of  justice  of  the  English 

36 


JUSTICE  OF  THE    BRITISH    DEMOCRACY 

democracy,  if  such  a  sense,  in  fact,  exists  at  all. 
Let  me  make  two  reservations.  First,  I  do  not 
deny  the  possession  of  a  sense  of  justice  to  individual 
Englishmen.  They  may  or  may  not  have  one. 
There  may  be  just-minded  Englishmen.  Again,  it 
is  possible  that  the  lower  classes  of  England,  if  the 
Government  were  really  in  their  hands,  might  prove 
less  unjust  than  the  upper  and  middle  classes  who 
have  so  large  a  share  in  its  control  at  present.  I 
have  felt,  on  the  rare  occasions  when  I  have  travelled 
to  the  Mile-end  Road  on  a  'bus,  that  the  people  who 
mounted  the  vehicle  in  that  district  were  much  more 
like  other  Europeans — in  a  word,  much  more  human 
— than  the  ordinary  Englishman  of  commerce,  whom 
we  are  accustomed  to  meet.  But  we  have  no  real  data. 
If  you  cannot  foretell  what  a  political  party  will  do 
when  it  assumes  office,  still  less  can  you  judge  the 
future  action  of  a  democracy  who  now  revel  in  the 
optimism  of  impotence.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  I 
assert  without  hesitation  that  whatever  be  the 
sentiments  of  individuals,  whatever  be  the  leanings 
of  the  lower  classes,  as  long  as  the  British  system 
of  politics  and  government  continues  to  be  what  it  is, 
considerations  of  justice  and  abstract  fairness  will 
count  for  nothing  in  the  dealings  of  the  English 
Government  with  Ireland. 

To  treat  of  such  a  topic  as  self-government  or 
liberty,  in  proving  this  proposition,  is  manifestly 
unfair.  All  men  have  agreed  that  robbery  on  a  large 
scale — what  is  called  "empire" — differs  not  merely 
in  degree,  but  in  kind,  from  larceny  of  a  less  extensive 
kind — say,  purse-snatching.  In  the  former  case,  you 
are  entitled  to  take  into  account  equitable  considera- 
tions, "  whether  it  is  for  the  other's  good,"  which 
moralists  commonly  refuse  to  recognize  in  the  case  of 
the  latter.  An  Englishman  may  find  so  many 
authorities  to  justify  his  detention — I  use  a  neutral 
term — of  Ireland,  India,  or  Egypt,  that  one  cannot 

37 


JUSTICE  OF  THE   BRITISH    DEMOCRACY 

reasonably  call  him  unjust  if  he  be  persuaded  by 
them.  But  there  are  other  matters  in  regard  to 
which  a  like  difference  of  opinion  does  not  prevail. 
Savage  chiefs,  for  instance,  commonly  believe  that  if 
they  enter  into  a  compact,  bringing  them  great 
advantage,  they  ought  to  keep  it. 

The  Act  of  Union  was  such  a  compact  and  the 
English  can  scarcely  plead  their  own  fraud  as  a 
defence  to  claims  based  upon  it.  By  that  compact 
the  English  agreed  to  grant  the  Irish  two  advantages 
only;  first,  a  certain  fixed  number  of  representatives 
in  the  House  of  Commons;  secondly,  a  rate  of  taxa- 
tion based  upon  certain  ascertained  principles.  As 
to  the  former,  a  majority  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
including  a  very  great  majority  of  the  English  repre- 
sentatives, have  more  than  once  manifested  their 
desire  to  diminish  it,  the  treaty  notwithstanding. 

The  history  of  the  latter  is  not  very  different.  The 
just  contribution  of  Ireland  according  to  the  prin- 
ciples enunciated  in  the  compact  was  ascertained 
some  time  since  by  a  tribunal  appointed  by  the 
English  (Liberal)  Government  to  be  one-twentieth 
of  the  whole.  With  the  knowledge  of  that  fact  before 
them,,  a  contribution,  never  less  than  one-fifteenth 
— that  is  .to  say  an  excess  of  twenty-five  per  cent. — 
has  been  exacted  by  the  English  Government  from 
the  Irish  people  from  that  day  to  this.  No  relevant 
excuse  has  been  offered.  Henceforth,  the  Irish  con- 
tribution will  be  raised  to  nearly  one-thirteenth  of 
the  whole.1 

The  fact  is  that  Ireland's  financial  case  has  nothing 
but  abstract  justice,  arithmetical  justice,  behind  it, 
and  justice  doesn't  count.  Your  Englishman  expects 

1  Mr.  T.  M.  Kettle's  interesting  figures,  showing  that,  owing  to 
the  recent  increase  of  English  wealth  by  half,  the  Irish  contribution 
should,  on  Union  principles  now  be  only  one-thirtieth,  is  not  in 
point  for  my  present  argument.  [What  would  be  the  figures 
now  ?— A.C.]. 

38 


JUSTICE  OF  THE    BRITISH    DEMOCRACY 

you  to  see  the  humour  of  such  arguments,  just  as  he 
does.  You  might  as  well  propose  the  evacuation  of 
Egypt.  If  there  were  some  way  of  backing  up  the 
claim,  some  way  of  hitting  back,  then  he  would  be 
at  once  alive  to  the  force  of  your  case.  In  fact,  to 
put  it  bluntly,  there  is  but  one  way  of  affecting  his 
conscience,  and  that  is  by  kicking  his  body.  Of 
course  he  will  try  to  hit  you  back,  but  he  will 
go  away  feeling  sore  and,  in  a  certain  sense, 
conscience-stricken.  That  is  the  English  sense  of 
justice. 

I  have  spoken  of  finance,  because  the  proof  was 
mathematical.  But  precisely  the  same  considerations 
apply  to  self-government.  Nothing  has  ever  been 
got  and  nothing  ever  will  be  got — minor  measures 
apart — except  by  giving  trouble.  Gerald  Balfour's 
concession  of  Local  Government  came  nearest  to  an 
exception.  There  is  no  new  method  in  Irish  politics. 
There  are  only  alternations  of  slackness  and  activity. 
And  it  is  as  hard  to  obtain  anything  from  an 
Englishman's  sense  of  justice  to-day  as  it  ever  was. 


39 


COULD  OUR  RELIGION  BE 
RUSHED  ? 

(Written  in  1915) 

The  Irish  nation  has  been  driven  from  one  line 
of  defence  after  another.  Many  centuries  ago  the 
strong  rampart  of  political  independence  preserved 
its  integrity.  But  all  trace  of  that  has  vanished, 
vanished  two  hundred  years  ago.  Next  there  was 
the  language.  No  serious  breach  was  made  in  that 
strong  line  of  defence  till  about  a  century  since.  Then 
that  line,  too,  was  broken  through,  and  there  was  a 
general  retreat  upon  the  next,  the  line  of  political 
nationality.  We  had  neither  language  nor  inde- 
pendence, but  we  still  held  out ;  we  claimed  to  be  a 
nation  on  other  grounds;  our  history,  our  traditions, 
our  distinctive  insignia,  the  separateness  of  our  poli- 
tical thought.  Men  differed  in  their  conceptions  of 
political  expediency ;  there  was  a  right  wing  and  a 
left ;  but  there  was  a  unity  in  the  whole ;  the  centre 
was  very  strong ;  the  position  had  been  so  long  held 
that  it  seemed  impregnable.  Now  this  line  has  been 
broken  through  in  its  turn,  and  the  national  forces 
are  again  in  full  retreat. 

The  Irish  nation  is  in  fact  thrown  back  upon  its 
last  line  of  defence,  its  religion.  Should  that  perish 
or  be  impaired,  even  the  name  of  Ireland  will  be 
forgotten.  And  the  thought  that  keeps  persistently 
occurring  to  me  is,  could  this  line,  too,  be  broken  ? 
Can  it  be  held  indefinitely  when  so  much  else  has 
been  abandoned  ?  The  position  is  enormously  strong. 
Against  any  frontal  attack  it  is  impregnable.  Could 
40 


COULD  OUR  RELIGION  BE  RUSHED ? 

it  be  taken  in  flank?  But  a  few  months  ago  the 
political  position  seemed  scarcely  less  strong,  the 
green  flag  firmly  nailed  to  the  mast.  I  do  not  say 
the  thing  will  happen  to-day  or  to-morrow.  But 
could  it  happen  ?  If  you  let  others  do  your  thinking, 
you  may  find  yourself  thinking  strange  things.  A 
nation  that  takes  the  Daily  Mail  for  its  breakfast 
and  an  English  Sunday  paper  for  its  Sunday  dinner, 
may  one  day  find  a  change  in  its  Friday  menu. 

I  conceive  the  thing  as  coming  to  pass  somewhat 
in  this  wise.  Last  autumn  I  spoke  of  the  process  of 
cold-shouldering  the  Pope.  Since  then  matters 
have  gone  further.  Instead  of  praise  for  the  true 
Christianity  of  the  greatest  of  Christians,  attacks — 
unanswered  attacks — on  the  Pope  are  now  a  regular 
feature  of  the  Irish  press,  both  Unionist  and  non- 
Unionist.  Sniping  the  Pope  would  be  the  more 
correct  description  of  the  existing  practice.  The 
idea  that  the  Pope  is  something  apart  from  the 
Catholic  Church,  though  not  put  into  words,  is 
indirectly  conveyed,  Now  suppose  some  great  crisis 
were  in  the  future  to  arise  in  the  Church.  If  France 
were  to  go  into  schism,  for  instance,  a  thing  never 
wholly  off  the  cards. 

An  enormous  body  of  opinion  in  Great  Britain 
would  receive  such  a  happening  with  enthusiasm, 
an  enthusiasm  far  greater  even  than  that  which 
greeted  Garibaldi's  efforts  in  our  fathers'  time. 
English  public  men  might  or  might  not  write 
pamphlets  on  "  Vaticanism  " — there  would  surely 
be  some  "ism,"  at  any  rate.  We  should  perhaps 
hear  that  in  breaking  with  Rome  France  was  fight- 
ing the  battle  for  Progress  against  Obscurantism 
(I  hazard  this  as  the  appropriate  Graeco-Latin 
substantive  for  the  occasion).  In  our  fathers'  time 
Ireland  had  no  doubt  about  her  attitude  towards 
this  kind  of  thing.  On  some  matters  at  least  she 
thought  for  herself.  What  would  be  her  attitude 


COULD  OUR  RELIGION  BE  RUSHED? 

now  or  a  few  years  hence  ?  I  don't  mean  in  a  time 
of  profound  ecclesiastical  peace,  but  in  a  crisis,  a 
time  of  spiritual  stress,  when  perhaps  issues  were 
confused — I  hope  she  would  stand  firm.  But  frankly, 
when  every  other  line  of  defence  has  been  abandoned, 
I  believe  the  line  of  our  national  religion  might  be 
subjected  to  terrible  and  almost  overwhelming 
pressure.  I  see  things  like  the  following  : 

THE   FIGHT   AGAINST    OBSCURANTISM 

At  a  meeting  at  Northampton  last  evening  the 
Northampton  Irish,  amidst  scenes  of  great  enthu- 
siasm, passed  a  resolution  bidding  God-speed  to 
their  fellow-countrymen  at  home  in  their  splendid 

fight  against  Obscurantism.     The  Reverend , 

the  famous  Nonconformist  divine,  who  was  accorded 
an  ovation,  the  audience  singing  "Nearer  My  God 
to  Thee "  in  compliment  to  him,  recalled  the 
magnificent  struggle  carried  on  by  the  early  Irish 
Church,  led  by  Saint  Patrick  (cheers)  against  the 
forces  that  were  now  once  again  setting  out  to  sap 
liberty  and  impede  the  march  of  Progress.  The 
meeting  concluded  by  singing  "  Faith  of  Our 
Fathers." 

THE  "FAITH"  REGULATIONS 
"Answering  an  Irish  member  in  the  House  of 
Commons  yesterday,  Mr.  Robertson  said  that  the 
accused,  Finlay,  had  not  been  deported  under  the 
'  Faith  '  Regulations,  but  under  the  ordinary  law. 
"An  honourable  member:    It  is  real  Catholic 
Emancipation  now." 

IRELAND   AND   OBSCURANTISM  ;    GREAT   SPEECH   OF 

MR.  ;    SPLENDID   DEMONSTRATION;    ULSTER 

SPEAKS   OUT 

Addressing  an  immense  concourse,  including  six 
brass  bands  which  played  "Faith  of  Our  Fathers" 
42 


COULD  OUR  RELIGION  BE  RUSHED? 

yesterday  in  Belfast,  Mr.  said :  "  It  was  an 

infamous  lie  to  suggest  that  the  Catholicity  of  the 
Irish  peasant,  aye,  and  of  the  Irish  citizen  (great 
applause),  was  less  than  it  had  ever  been.  No 
peasantry,  not  even  the  Russian  peasantry,  the  most 
religious  peasantry  in  the  world,  were  more  devoted 
to  Catholic  principles, true  Catholic  principles,than 
the  Irish  were.  Let  a  few  obscurantist  cranks — 
there  were  not  many  of  them,  thank  God,  in  this 
great,  free  and  progressive  city — they  had  no  use  for 
them— let  a  few  enemies  of  Progress  croak  in  their 
holes  .  .  . 

(A  Voice — We'll  smoke  'em  out  (laughter). 

"  The  faith  of  Ireland  was  as  undimmed  and 
untarnished  as  in  the  days  of  their  martyred 
ancestors.  But  Ireland  has  taken  her  stand  against 
Obscurantism,  and  she  would  not  recede.  When 
did  Irishmen  ever  fail  to  take  their  stand  against 
Tyranny  and  Oppression  ?  They  were  not  going  to 
have  the  Inquisition  in  twentieth-century  Ireland. 
The  ecclesiastic  who  lived  in  Spain  and  called  him- 
self Bishop  of  Rome,  would  never  again  bring  the 
unhappy  name  of  Pope  to  raise  dissension  between 
different  classes  of  Irishmen.  .  .  ." 

All  this  perhaps  seems  a  little  impossible.  Many 
other  things  have  seemed  impossible.  I  pray  God 
that  it  may  not  happen  in  our  time. 


43 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN 
IRELAND 

Ireland  is  like  an  examination  paper,  all  questions, 
no  answers.  And  of  these  the  most  difficult,  most 
recurrent,  and  that  which  has  led  to  the  greatest 
number  of  failures  is  the  famous  religious  question. 
There  is,  of  course,  a  religious  question  in  every 
country,  except,  I  am  credibly  informed,  Japan. 
But  the  religious  question  in  Ireland  has  attained  a 
celebrity  beyond  that  of  other  countries.  For  it  has 
been  its  fortune  to  come  athwart  the  working  of  a 
great  empire  and  now  and  then  bring  about  a 
stoppage  of  the  machinery.  In  so  doing  it  has 
inevitably  made  a  mighty  noise. 

The  thing  itself  is  very  simple,  and  has  scarce 
anything  to  do  with  theology.  Even  the  desire  to 
make  converts  is  comparatively  rare  among  resident 
Irishmen ;  proselytism  in  Ireland  will  most  often 
be  found  to  have  an  English  origin.  Probabty  there 
is  no  section  of  civilized  humanity  that  contains  so 
small  a  proportion  of  persons  interested  in  theological 
problems  as  the  inhabitants  of  this  island.  The 
question  is  quite  a  different  one. 

Yseult  and  Sir  Tristan  of  old  found  themselves 
chained  together  by  an  immoral  love  brought  about 
by  another's  deed,  which  no  act  of  theirs  could 
remedy  or  make  less.  The  modern  native  Irishman 
and  the  British  immigrant — the  Catholic  and  the 
Protestant — find  themselves  bound  inseparably  by  an 
immoral  hate,  not  of  their  own  making.  Good  wishes 
avail  nothing.  The  thing  is  fixed,  immutable.  The 
individual  will  is  powerless  in  its  grasp  ;  and  efforts 

44 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN  IRELAND 

to  improve  matters  have  not  seldom  ended  by  leaving 
them  worse. 

A  casual  visitor  to  Ireland,  especially  if  he  came 
in  winter-time,  might  voyage  throughout  the  whole 
country  and  notice  none  of  these  phenomena. 
Everybody  in  Ireland  holds  language  of  the  utmost 
broadmindedness  and  benevolence.  There  is  com- 
plete charity  on  both  sides ;  at  most  a  keen  observer 
might  remark  "that  the  Catholic  charity  tends  to  be 
of  a  fraternal  and  the  Protestant  of  a  paternal 
variety.  So,  I  make  no  doubt,  one  might  have 
visited  the  court  of  the  excellent  King  Mark  in 
Cornwall,  the  British  realm  of  those  days,  admired 
the  monarch's  admirable  bass  singing,  and  came 
away  noticing  nothing  wrong.  There  are  even  to 
be  found  Catholics  and  Protestants  quite  unaware 
of  their  real  feelings  towards  each  other,  but  that 
does  not  change  the  feelings. 

Perhaps  the  most  surprising  aspect  of  the  religious 
question  in  Ireland,  and  yet  the  one  least  noticed,  is 
the  way  in  which  the  Catholic  and  the  Protestant 
live  socially  apart.  This  exists  quite  as  much  in 
Dublin  as  in  the  North.  It  is  perhaps  less  true  of 
the  small  Protestant  communities  of  the  south,  yet 
even  there  it  applies  to  a  certain  extent.  Socially  I 
happen  to  belong,  I  believe  (at  the  time  of  writing), 
to  something  like  the  middle  of  the  Irish  upper 
middle-class — perhaps  nearer  the  bottom  than  the 
top.  I  have  only  once  in  my  life  dined  in  a 
Protestant  house.  Though  I  am  entering  on  middle 
life,  and  my  dancing  days  almost  over,  I  have 
never  yet  been  at  a  dance  in  a  Protestant  house. 
I  don't  include  in  this  the  menages  that  result  from 
mixed  marriages ;  they  are  neutral  ground.  Years 
ago,  by  an  accident,  I  once  found  myself  at  a  charity 
ball  organized  by  Protestants  of  the  middle  upper- 
middle  class  for  some  non-sectarian  purpose.  I 
found  that  the  only  girl  I  knew  in  the  room  was  the 

45 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN  IRELAND 

only  Catholic.  With  trifling  and  accidental  varia- 
tions, this  is,  I  believe,  the  general  experience  of 
Catholics  of  my  own  class  and  any  classes  below  it. 
At  the  very  top  of  the  upper  middle  class,  where  the 
number  of  Catholics  thins  out  very  much,  the  segre- 
gation of  faiths  is,  I  understand,  less  marked  ;  whilst 
among  the  very  small  handful  of  Catholic  aristocrats 
I  dare  say  the  social  demarcation  would  scarcely 
exist  at  all.  As  for  the  state  of  things  existing  in 
the  bulk  of  the  middle  class,  I  have  set  it  out,  but  I 
make  no  complaint.  Catholic  society  is  conducted 
on  a  like  basis  of  separateness.  In  Dublin,  at  any 
rate,  neither  religion  feels  the  want  of  the  other 
socially ;  each  is  self-sufficing. 

In  the  market-place,  in  business  life,  men  of  all 
religions  mingle  freely.  They  become  firm  friends 
and  appreciate  each  other's  good  qualities.  They 
lunch  together;  they  drink  together;  and  in  one 
sense  they  forget  the  religious  question.  Yet  it  is 
really  present  sub-consciously  all  the  time.  All  the 
friendliness  is  to  a  certain  extent  like  the  "frater- 
nisation "  of  soldiers  in  opposing  trenches,  the 
inarticulate  protest  of  human  nature  against 
conditions  that  are  too  strong  for  it.  A  single  shot, 
a  blast  on  the  bugle,  a  tap  on  the  drum,  and 
they  rush  to  take  their  places  in  the  opposing  firing 
lines. 

The  casus  belli  is  most  commonly  economic.  Apart 
from  Drink,  which  Protestants  make  and  Catholics 
sell,  there  are  three  great  industries  in  Ireland — (a) 
Agriculture,  (6)  Linen-making,  and  (c)  Jobbery.  I 
treat  ship-building  as  subsidiary  to  the  linen  manu- 
facture, as  in  a  sense  it  is.  The  famous  land  war 
was,  viewed  broadly,  a  fight  between  Catholic  and 
Protestant  for  the  control  of  agriculture,  the  owner- 
ship of  the  land.  Of  course  there  were  Catholic 
landlords  and  Ulster  farmers,  but  I  speak  of  the 
broad  issue.  Sir  Edward  Carson's  celebrated 
46 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN  IRELAND 

unfought  war  may  be  looked  on  as  in  essence  a  fight 
for  Linen. 

Jobbery,  with  its  yield  of  near  ten  millions  a  year, 
is  scarcely  less  important  than  the  other  two,  and 
the  fight  to  control  it  is  waged  unceasingly  in  a  sort 
of  guerilla  warfare  between  Catholic  and  Protestant. 
The  capture  of  a  judgeship,  even  a  county-court 
judgeship,  is  acclaimed  as  a  victory  in  the  official 
communique  of  the  day.  Above  all,  the  recapture  of 
any  position  in  which  the  enemy  thought  he  had 
established  himself  is  a  cause  of  unbounded  exulta- 
tion. In  reality  the  situation  does  not  vary  very 
greatly.  The  Protestants  are  very  firmly  dug  into 
their  entrenchments;  their  supplies  are  excellent. 
They  can  hold  out  for  an  indefinite  time  against  the 
numerical  superiority  of  the  Catholics.  Part  of  the 
line  is  held  by  the  Episcopalians  and  part  by  the 
even  better  disciplined  Presbyterians.  There  is 
always  talk  of  a  general  advance  or  a  magnanimous 
peace,  but  neither  has  come  about  so  far.  The 
situation  may  be  summed  up  by  saying  that  the  best 
things  in  the  patronage  of  the  central  government 
are  in  Protestant  hands. 

The  conventions  of  this  form  of  warfare  are  some- 
what peculiar.  The  actual  religious  fervour  or  even 
the  speculative  convictions  of  the  job-seeker  are 
almost  a  negligible  consideration.  Occasional 
attendance  at  a  place  of  worship  of  the  religion 
to  which  the  common  opinion  assigns  him  has  in  a 
few  cases  been  considered  necessary;  but,  on  the 
whole,  public  opinion  is  against  any  such  require- 
ment as  tending  to  confuse  the  issues,  and  the  filling 
up  of  a  census  paper  is  thought  a  sufficient  profession 
of  faith.  Even  if  a  gentleman  were  to  proclaim 
himself  a  disciple  of  Nietzsche,  his  appointment 
to  any  public  position  would  be  duly  chronicled  as 
a  Catholic  or  Protestant  appointment  respectively 
in  accordance  with  the  putative  religious  opinions 

47 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN  IRELAND 

of  his  family  and  connections,  and  compensation 
demanded  on  that  basis.  Up  to  a  few  years  ago  had 
Mr.  George  Moore — I  don't  say  that  he  follows 
Nietzsche — been  appointed  to  some  public  position, 
say  a  body  of  public  trustees  of  some  kind,  he  would 
have  been  set  down  unhesitatingly  as  a  Catholic 
appointment  and  a  Protestant  put  on  to  balance 
him.  The  actual  change  of  opinions  from  Catholic 
to  Protestant,  or  vice  versa  (though  viewed  with 
popular  disfavour — people  were  quite  hurt  by  Mr. 
Moore's  defection)  is  however  recognized ;  Episco- 
palian and  Presbyterian  victories  are  separately 
chronicled.  But  outside  these  limits  variations  of 
religious  opinions  are  scarcely  taken  account  of. 

The  struggle  is  not,  of  course,  confined  to  industry 
and  government  patronage.  Catholics  complain 
that  they  are  in  large  part  excluded  from  "  non- 
industrial  "  business,  from  many  branches  of  retail 
trade,  for  instance.  Some  houses  in  the  hardware 
and  ironmongery  business  are  specially  exclusive, 
Catholics  being,  on  principle,  wholly  shut  out.  I 
do  not  know  whether  Protestants  have  any  counter- 
charges to  make  in  this  regard.  Protestants  have 
been  certainly  extraordinarily  successful  in  the 
retail  trade  in  every  part  of  Ireland.  Much  of  the 
carrying  and  wholesale  distributive  trade  of  Ireland 
is  for  obvious  reasons  in  the  hands  of  actual  English- 
men. These  form  a  very  important  element  among 
the  Irish  Freemasons.  It  is  usually  found  that  when 
the  mode  of  entry  into  any  large  concern,  as  a  bank 
or  railway,  for  instance,  is  by  competitive  examina- 
tion it  means  a  great  increase  in  the  number  of 
Catholics  employed,  at  least  in  the  junior  ranks  of  the 
business.  Protestants  would  probably  say  this  is 
because  competitive  examinations  don't  test  manners. 
Good  manners  are  usually  a  function  of  average 
income  taken  over  a  long  period ;  and  the  average 
Protestant  income  in  the  South  and  West  is  inevi- 
48 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN  IRELAND 

tably  higher  than  the  average  Catholic  income,  as 
there  is  no  Protestant  proletariat  outside  Ulster. 
All  Protestant  barbarians  hail  from  north  of  the 
Newry  canal.  Catholics,  on  the  other  hand,  would 
say  that  their  success  in  competitive  examination 
results  from  the  fact  that  competitive  examination 
is  the  only  method  of  choice  not  subject  to  corrupt 
influence. 

The  play  of  indirect  religious  influences  in  matters 
wholly  unconcerned  with  religion  is  a  perpetual  sub- 
ject of  complaint  by  Catholics  among  themselves, 
and  (as  far  as  I  can  ascertain)  by  Protestants. 
When  the  last  Protestant  leaves  the  room  the  topic 
commonly  arises.  Catholics  complain  that  Protest- 
ants always  "  stick  together,"  and  that  while 
Catholics  give  a  fair  share  of  their  business  to 
Protestants,  while  Catholic  convents,  and  even 
Catholic  bishops,  employ  Protestant  solicitors  and 
doctors,  on  the  other  hand  (if  one  omits  the  small 
class  of  men  who  in  all  walks  of  life  are  so  eminent 
as  to  be  inevitable),  no  Protestant  tongue  is  sub- 
mitted to  Catholic  eyes,  no  Protestant  brief  goes 
astray ;  the  Protestant  purchaser  looks  for  Protest- 
ant potatoes,  Protestant  mutton,  Protestant  patent 
medicines.  Of  course  this  is  a  clear  exaggeration ; 
but  there  is  a  sufficient  element  of  truth  in  it.  Irish 
Protestants  are  at  least  as  cohesive  in  such  matters 
as,  say,  Irishmen  in  America.  They  will  in  most 
cases  give  a  preference  to  a  less  competent  Protestant 
over  a  more  competent  Catholic. 

I  dare  say  when  the  door  slams  on  the  last  Catholic, 
Protestants  tell  each  other  a  different  story.  They 
say  they  are  living  almost  on  sufferance  among  a 
quasi-hostile  population;  that  they  are  prevented 
from  succeeding  bytheirreligion,orelsebythepolitics 
that  are  its  all  but  inevitable  accompaniment ;  if  not, 
they  are  succeeding  against  considerable  odds  in 
spite  of  it.  They  themselves  are  broadminded,  and 
E  49 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN  IRELAND 

save  for  a  few  Ulster  extremists,  take  no  account 
of  religious  differences.  Catholics,  people  like  the 
present  writer,  for  instance,  are  perpetually  harping 
on  them.  Irish  gentlemen  are  Protestants;  Catholics 
are,  well — many  of  them  very  worthy  people.  If 
things  were  in  Protestant  hands  there  would  be  no 
question  of  religion  at  all;  and  matters  would  not  be 
in  their  present  pass  if  the  English  government  had 
not  abandoned  the  interests  of  men  always  faithful 
to  it,  who  have  sacrificed  not  a  little  in  its  service. 

I  fear  I  am  getting  into  politics.  But  the  dis- 
tinctions, of  which  I  write,  are  in  no  sense  political. 
I  know  no  men  who  feel  and  (when  you  get  them 
alone)  speak  more  bitterly  on  religious  subjects  than 
Catholic  Unionists.  By  the  way,  the  invariable  sign 
of  a  Catholic  having  bitter  religious  feelings  is  that 
he  calls  himself  a  Papist.  Catholic  Unionists  are 
usually  full  of  hatred  for  Protestants,  and  can  scarcely 
contain  their  sentiments  about  Presbyterians.  They 
have  a  sort  of  feeling  that  it  is  not  reasonable  to 
expect  a  man  to  be  a  Unionist  for  nothing  and  that 
they  are  not  being  paid  the  honest  price  of  their 
services.  Paradox  as  it  seems,  such  men  in  the  long 
run  often  argue  themselves  into  Nationalism  along 
this  strange  path. 

Many  remedies  have  been  suggested  for  the  religious 
evil,  that  strange  paradoxical  phrase.  Personally  I 
do  not  believe  that  either  the  concession  of  self- 
government  or  "the  bloody  sacrament  of  a  common 
battle"  will  effect  any  sudden  change  in  conditions  so 
deeply  inbedded  in  the  social  system.  Neither  the 
hind  nor  the  panther  will  change  its  spots  (if  I  may  be 
pardoned  that  bold  metaphor),  at  least  not  in  our 
lifetime.  But  these  are  political  considerations.  A 
purely  social  remedy,  combined  education,  has  per- 
petually been  suggested.  It  is  said  that  Catholic  and 
Protestant  pull  well  together — the  words  may  be 
literally  applied  to  the  boat  club — in  Trinity  College, 

50 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN  IRELAND 

and  that  if  this  system  were  indefinitely  extended, 
religious  differences  would  disappear  among  old 
school-mates.  In  fact,  a  solution  of  the  University 
question  was  prevented  for  nearly  a  century  by  this 
argument.  In  all  this  I  disbelieve  most  thoroughly. 
My  personal  experience  is  that  Catholic  graduates 
of  Trinity  College  have,  in  after  life,  quite  as  keen  a 
sense  of  religious  distinctions  as  anyone  else,  in  fact, 
often  a  much  keener  sense.  The  happy  relations  that 
exist  between  the  Catholic  and  Protestant  under- 
graduates of  Trinity  College  come  chiefly  from  the 
fact  that  a  minority  of  only  twelve  per  cent,  is  not 
sufficiently  large  to  excite  disfavour  or  encourage 
reprisals.  If  you  had  forty-seven  per  cent,  of 
Catholics  in  Trinity  College,  as  so  many  would  desire, 
still  more  if  you  had  fifty-three,  there  would,  I  firmly 
believe,  be  Tartarus  to  pay ;  even  as  it  is  the  favour- 
able position  of  Catholic  students  in  Trinity  College 
has  not  led  to  any  considerable  number  of  Catholics 
afterwards  making  their  appearance  on  the  College 
staff.  The  late  Sir  Francis  Cruise  once  complained 
to  me  most  bitterly  of  the  way  in  which  he  had  been 
treated  (in  his  belief  owing  to  his  religion)  in 
regard  to  such  an  appointment.  I  have,  however, 
no  personal  knowledge  of  the  facts. 

But  be  this  as  it  may,  any  general  adoption  of  the 
system  must  present  extraordinary  difficulty.  In 
many  parts  of  Ireland  you  would  have  to  import  an 
experimental  Protestant  in  order  to  train  his  fellow 
scholars  to  be  tolerant  to  him.  Moreover,  it  is  pre- 
cisely in  those  parts  of  the  country  where  men  have 
scarcely  ever  met  a  Protestant  that  the  most  tolerant 
Irishmen  are  to  be  found.  It  may  be  no  more  than 
a  coincidence,  but  the  least  tolerant  come  from  those 
parts  of  Northern  Ireland  where  some  slight  degree 
of  religious  co-education  exists. 

Again,  it  is  often  thought  that  the  best  way  to 
meet  the  religious  difficulty  is  by  closing  our 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN  IRELAND 

eyes  to  it.  With  this  I  wholly  disagree.  It  is 
an  idea  founded  upon  the  pernicious  philosophy  of 
Edmund  Bourke,  the  apotheosis  of  systematized 
humbug.  Shortsightedness  is  not  a  cure  for  any 
social  evil  whatever.  We  must  first  face  facts 
before  we  can  conquer  them. 

Another  experiment  might  be  more  interesting,  if 
it  were  not  plainly  impossible.  At  present  one  of 
the  few  points  about  which  all  religions  in  Ireland 
are  in  complete  agreement  is  a  rooted  objection  to 
mixed  marriages.  This  is  probably  a  large  part  of 
the  cause  of  the  religious  separateness.  A  Protestant 
girl  who  dances  with  a  Catholic  knows  that  she  is 
wasting  her  time ;  and  why  should  her  mother  have 
fresh  tea  made  and  distribute  her  cakes  and  scones 
to  a  man  who  is  plainly  unmarriageable.  This 
consideration  runs  through  the  whole  social  life. 
Were  the  impossible  to  happen,  and  mixed  marriages 
to  come  into  favour,  it  would  be  interesting  to 
discover  whether  the  corrupt  motives  of  family 
influence  would  outweigh  those  of  religious  pre- 
ference. An  attempt  to  encourage  mixed  marriages 
in  this  view  was,  I  understand,  made  in  Germany. 
Here  again,  however,  it  is  at  least  doubtful  if  the 
result  achieved  would  be  quite  what  was  expected. 
Of  every  ten  bigoted  people  of  my  acquaintance, 
seven  at  least  are  the  offspring  of  mixed  marriages. 
One  trembles  to  think  of  an  entire  population  so 
recruited. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  exaggerate  the  degree  of  religious 
hatred  in  Ireland.  It  is  probably  less  than  in  other 
countries.  It  is  certainly  less  than  the  hatred 
between  Catholic  and  anti-Catholic  in  France  or 
in  Germany,  and  immensely  less  than  the  hatred  (in 
normal  times)  between  Catholic  and  non-Catholic 
in  Belgium.  It  may  be  doubted  even  if  the  social 
contempt  of  church  people  for  Nonconformists  in 
England  is  not  a  more  cruel  and  ruthless  sentiment 

52 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ANGLE  IN  IRELAND 

than  any  existing  with  us ;  the  great  amount  of 
proselytism,  from  chapel  to  church,  through 
interested  motives,  in  England  goes  to  show  this. 
Extensive  proselytism  is  a  plain  sign  of  severe  perse- 
cution. In  any  event  the  hatred  existing  between 
religions  in  Ireland  is  much  less  than  the  hatred 
existing  between  the  different  classes  in  the  same 
religion.  Women  of  different  religions  do  not  refuse 
to  speak  to  each  other.  Catholic  and  Protestant  do 
not  edge  away  from  each  other  on  a  tram,  as  the 
middle  class  man  edges  away  from  an  artizan. 
Compare  those  two  events,  of  which  we  all  know 
instances,  a  mixed  marriage  and  a  mesalliance — 
which  of  them  causes  more  commotion  and  heart- 
burning in  a  family?  Indeed  men  who  complain  of 
religious  bad  treatment  in  a  social  sense  very  often 
say  that  because  of  their  religion  they  are  being 
treated  as  though  they  were  socially  beneath  the 
other  party.  Social  contempt  they  look  upon  as 
right  and  natural.  But  of  social  hatreds  I  hope  to 
treat  hereafter.  In  itself  religious  antipathy  outside 
Ulster  is  not  intense  in  Ireland.  It  is  because  the 
line  of  religious  cleavage  in  Ireland  coincides  with 
the  line  of  political  cleavage  that  the  two  coming 
together  make  a  jar. 


THE  PASSING  OF  UNIVERSITY 
COLLEGE,   STEPHEN'S   GREEN 

As  I  write,  the  end  has  come.  My  old  A  Ima  Mater 
is  no  more.  A  hearse-like  furniture  van  stands  at 
the  door  to  excite  the  curiosity  of  the  chance  passer- 
by. Strangers  called  it  "Stephen's  Green."  Among 
ourselves  \ve  knew  it  as  "The  College,"  wherein  we 
differed  from  T.C.D.  students,  who  make  it  a  rule  to 
omit  the  "The,"  and  always  refer  to  their  place  of 
education  as  "  College."  We  differed  from  them  in 
much  else  as  well,  and  not  always,  if  one  old  Uni- 
versity College  man  may  express  his  views,  for  the 
worse.  Personally,  I  shall  never  regret  that  the 
College,  that  is  just  now  closing  its  doors,  and  not 
any  more  famous  seat  of  learning,  was  my  place  of 
instruction,  le't  theorists  argue  as  they  will  in  a 
contrary  sense.  If  University  College  of  old  had 
any  special  defect,  it  was  really  that  it  was  too  true 
a  University,  and  complied  overmuch  with  the  ideal 
of  culture  for  its  own  sake.  Students  from  other 
places  of  education  were,  indeed,  more  likely  to 
succeed  in  the  world,  even  in  the  world  of  educa- 
tional promotion,  just  for  this  reason,  that  their 
intellectual  training  was  less  complete.  That  I 
should  thus  exalt  the  training  of  my  old  college 
above  that  of  other  universities  may,  perhaps,  be  set 
down  to  mere  filial  piety.  Yet,  if  outsiders  had 
known  the  brilliant  and  varied  college  life  that  existed 
behind  the  shabby  exterior  of  the  Stephen's  Green 
buildings,  they  might  be  more  of  my  way  of  thinking. 

Some  of  the  men  of  that  time  are  already  on  the 
road  to  distinction,  in  science,  in  philosophy,  in 

54 


THE  PASSING  OF  UNIVERSITY  COLLEGE 

public  life,  in  various  paths  of  effort.  Others  may 
never  fulfil  their  early  promise.  It  is  all  but  a 
memory  now.  But  the  college  life,  which  had  these 
men  in  the  first  promise  of  youth  as  its  chief  figures 
was  indescribably  brilliant  and  interesting.  The 
period  of  which  I  speak  began  with  the  return  of 
Father  Delany,  S.J.,  to  the  Presidency  of  University 
College  in  1897.  For  some  time  before  there  had 
been  a  period  of  slumber  in  College  affairs.  His 
coming  back  brought  about  a  revival.  The  first 
organ  of  college  life  to  take  on  a  new  vitality  was 
the  Literary  and  Historical  Society.  It  had  perished 
in  the  troubled  times  of  the  eighties,  and  it  was  now 
revived  largely  through  the  efforts  of  the  late 
Dr.  Coyne,  and  of  Mr.  Walter  Callan.  It  was,  indeed, 
the  third  revival,  for  the  "  Literary  and  Aesthetical," 
or,  as  the  students  dubbed  it,  "Atheistical,"  Society 
of  the  old  Catholic  University  had  perished  long 
since.  In  the  early  days  of  the  revival,  the  attend- 
ance was  small,  and  it  is  on  record  that,  standing 
orders  being  suspended,  two  students  once  sustained 
the  debate  for  a  whole  evening.1  But  the  new  insti- . 
tution  became  popular  ere  long.  No  human  beings 
were  ever  so  proud  of  themselves  as  we,  the  committee, 
when  we  first  held  a  public  inaugural  meeting,  that 
could  vie  with  those  of  Dublin  University  in  its 
splendours.  The  Society  received  constant  support 
and  encouragement  from  Father  Thomas  Finlay  and 
Mr.  William  Magennis,  his  brilliant  pupil.  Upon 
our  young  and  impressionable  natures  the  intel- 
lectual influence  of  two  such  men  was  very  powerful, 
and  I  think  we  all  strove  to  imitate  them  more  or 
less.  And  no  one  was  a  more  frequent  participant 
in  its  debates,  and  more  interested  in  its  welfare,  than 
Father  Joseph  Darlington,  S.J.,  a  man,  the  kindliness 
and  simplicity  of  whose  character  almost  hid  his  real 
intellectual  acumen.  Of  the  whole  college  staff, 
^he  late  Mr.  Sheehy-Skeffington  and  the  present  writer. 

55 


THE  PASSING  OF  UNIVERSITY  COLLEGE 

indeed,  he  was  perhaps  the  most  keenly  interested 
in  every  phase  of  college  life. 

The  College  Sodality  also  began  to  excite  a  new 
interest.  Spiritual  positions  in  connection  with  it 
became  the  object  of  fierce  competition  among  the 
students.  Concerts  also  became  a  prominent  feature 
of  college  life,  and  a  choral  union  was  soon  to  spring 
into  being.  It  was  always  a  moot  point  whether  it 
was  the  concerts  themselves  or  the  tea  and  cake 
which  invariably  accompanied  them  that  attracted 
such  thronging  audiences.  The  most  popular  features 
of  the  concerts  in  those  days  were  the  Gaelic  songs. 
At  the  time  I  speak  of,  the  Gaelic  League  was 
beginning  to  get  into  its  stride,  and  nowhere  was 
the  new  movement  accepted  with  more  enthu- 
siasm than  among  the  students  of  University  College. 
Voluntary  Gaelic  classes  became  the  rage.  Sophocles 
and  O'Growney,Higher  Plane  Curves  and  O'Growney, 
Hegel  and  O'Growney,  became  the  recognized  diet 
of  the  various  classes  of  students.  Ireland  owes  the 
College  at  least  one  well-known  Gaelic  singer,  Mr. 
Clandillon.  Yet  the  new  movement,  by  giving  us 
students  an  ideal,  raised  the  tone  of  our  lives,  and  an 
exceptionally  high  moral  standard  prevailed  amongus.1 
There  was,  at  all  times,  a  considerable  interest  taken 
in  athletics,  but  we  were  heavily  handicapped  in  this 
respect  by  want  of  resources,  and  Stephen's  Green, 
unfortunately,  offers  no  facilities  for  boating.  But 
the  greatest  feature  of  College  life,  the  college  paper, 
St.  Stephen's,  has  yet  to  be  spoken  of.  Many  people 
look  back  upon  it  as  one  of  the  cleverest  papers 
ever  published  in  Dublin.  It  was  conducted  by  a 
students'  committee,  but  Professor  Browne,  S.J., 
turning  aside  from  Grammatical  and  Homeric 

'Readers  of  Mr.  James  Joyce  will  get  a  different  impression,  but 
this  is  the  actual  fact.  Among  the  students  of  the  college  about 
this  time  were  P.  H.  Pearse,  T.  M.  Kettle,  F.  Sheehy-Skeffington, 
Joyce  is  true  as  far  as  he  goes,  but  confining  himself  to  one  small 
knot  of  medical  students  he  gives  a  wrong  impression  of  the  whole. 

56 


THE  PASSING  OF  UNIVERSITY  COLLEGE 

studies,  had  not  a  little  to  say  to  the  conduct  of  it. 
It  was  "  unprejudiced  as  to  date  of  issue,"  as  it  once 
editorially  declared,  but  made  some  attempt  to 
appear  monthly.  Humour  was  its  strong  point, 
and  it  waged  unceasing  war  with  the  Choral  Union. 
Auditors,  too,  experienced  a  treatment  in  its  columns 
much  different  from  that  of  the  speakers,  who  talked 
of  their  brilliant  and  suggestive  addresses  at  the 
inaugural  meetings  of  the  debating  society.  The 
ladies'  column,  alleged  to  be,  but  not  always  in  fact, 
the  composition  of  a  girl  graduate,  was  a  point  of 
much  difficulty.  Lady  students  always  cavilled  at  it 
as  being  too  frivolous. 

The  rather  juvenile  staff  observed  one  rule  in  con- 
ducting the  paper  which  showed  a  wisdom  beyond 
their  years.  Stability  was  secured  by  the  remarkable 
principle  (I  now  reveal  it  for  the  first  time)  that  there 
should  always  be  two  dull  articles.  I  wonder  if,  when 
Professor  X  received  a  request  to  describe  his  visit 
to  the  sources  of  the  Ganges,  he  had  any  inkling 
that  he  had  been  fixed  upon  by  the  staff  as  the  writer 
of  one  of  the  dull  articles  for  the  coming  month.  Yet, 
so  it  was.  It  must  have  been  the  neglect  of  this 
saving  principle  that  eventually  caused  the  subse- 
quent college  trouble,  in  the  course  of  which  the 
journal  perished  after  a  comparatively  long  and 
brilliant  career.  But,  if  I  were  to  speak  further  of 
the  old  college,  and  tell  of  a  dozen  other  societies  and 
institutions  that  flourished  there  from  the  Chess 
Club  to  the  Vincent  de  Paul  Society,  I  should 
become  garrulous.  It  was  a  brilliant  chapter  in  life 
to  be  looked  back  upon.  When  the  old  University 
College  is  in  the  present  month  absorbed  in  a  new  and 
more  extensive  institution,  the  book  will  be  closed. 
As  I  pass  by  the  old  place,  now  occupied  by  new  men 
with  new  problems,  I  shall  think  a  little,  wondering 
if  the  college  men,  in  their  new  circumstances,  will 
have  as  bright,  as  brilliant,  as  full  a  life  as  we  had  in 
the  old  time. 


THE  PLAGUE  OF  B.A.'S 

(Written  about  1910) 

I  am  a  B.A.  It  is  a  deadly  distinction.  About 
a  year  ago  a  father  asked  me  to  which  university 
should  he  send  his  son.  (When  he  asked  this 
question  he  had  of  course  made  up  his  mind  to 
send  him  to  Trinity.)  To  none  at  all,  quoth  I, 
and  thereby  astonished  him.  And  in  truth  the  great 
advantage  of  night  lectures,  such  as  I  spoke  of 
recently,  is  that  they  educate  a  man  without  incapa- 
citating him.  They  provide  food  for  the  mind, 
without  simultaneously  withdrawing  it  from  the 
body.  I  have  known  a  man  who  had  taken  First 
Class  Honours  in  his  Degree  and  First  Place  in 
his  year,  bitterly  regret  that  he  had  not  entered 
for  some  small  Civil  Service  Post  on  leaving  school. 

What,  indeed,  is  your  B.A.  to  do  when  he  dcffs 
his  rabbit-skin  hood  ?  He  is  no  nearer  a  living.  He 
is  too  old  to  start  medicine.  It  would  take  him 
another  five  or  six  years,  and  entail  a  large  expendi- 
ture of  money.  If  he  have  capital,  he  can,  in  another 
three  years,  join  the  overcrowded,  but  sometimes 
lucrative,  ranks  of  the  solicitor's  profession,  but  even 
for  that  he  is  a  little  old.  Then  there  is  engineering, 
for  what  it  is  worth.  He  is  not  likely  to  find  a 
vocation  for  the  Church.  If  he  has  exceptional 
examination  ability,  and  about  two  hundred  pounds, 
he  can  have  a  shot  for  the  Home  or  the  Indian  Civil 
Service ;  the  Home  Civil  in  most  cases  involves 
emigration.  He  is,  of  course,  hopelessly  unfitted 
for  a  commercial  or  industrial  career,  unless  he  has 
one  already  made  for  him  by  his  father.  He  may 

58 


THE  PLAGUE  OF  B.A.'S 

know  political  economy,  but  he  can't  work  a  letter- 
press, and  very  possibly  is  incapable  of  answering  a 
call  on  the  telephone.  Merchants  and  industrials 
unconnected  by  family  ties  simply  don't  want  him, 
and  have  no  intention  of  undertaking  the  difficult 
task  of  his  business  education.  And,  even  were  he 
not  too  old,  a  bank  would  at  once  fight  shy  of  his 
personal  appearance.  In  practice  three  careers 
remain  open  to  him  :  the  Bar,  journalism,  being 
an  M.P. 

As  regards  the  last,  I  shall  say  nothing  more  than 
that  it  seems  distinctly  easier  to  decide  to  be  an  M.P. 
than  to  become  one.  Personally  I  have  never  made 
any  effort  in  that  direction,  but  I  should  fancy 
that  a  University  degree  would  be,  if  anything,  a 
hindrance.  Whilst  as  for  the  Bar,  it  is  rather  like 
going  to  Monte  Carlo — ten  or  twenty  to  one  against 
making  a  fortune,  three  or  four  to  one  against  even 
getting  your  money  back.  Some  of  the  most  success- 
ful barristers,  as,  for  instance,  the  present  Recorder 
of  Dublin,  who  was  leader  of  the  Common  Law  Bar 
in  his  time,  never  proceeded  to  a  B.  A.  degree.  As  for 
journalism — well,  all  I  can  do  is  to  give  Mr.  Punch's 
advice.  Even  in  England  literary  journalism  will 
soon  be  a  thing  of  the  past. 

Can  this  state  of  affairs  be  changed  ?  No  greater 
nonsense  was,  indeed,  ever  uttered  than  to  say  there 
are  no  educated  Catholics  to  fill  public  positions. 
The  fact  is,  that  the  positions  are  there,  the  educated 
Catholics  are  there.  They  are  never  introduced  to 
one  another.  The  element  of  truth  in  the  statement 
is  this,  that  younger  Catholics  being  seldom 
employed  in  respectable  positions  in  the  public 
service,  when  you  come  to  look  for  middle-aged 
men  to  fill  important  positions,  you  naturally 
discover  few  Catholics  among  the  men  in  the  normal 
line  of  succession.  If  anything  were  wanted  to  prove 
this,  it  is  the  number  of  really  brilliant  Catholic  men 

59 


THE  PLAGUE  OF  B.A.'S 

(Written  about  1910) 

I  am  a  B.A.  It  is  a  deadly  distinction.  About 
a  year  ago  a  father  asked  me  to  which  university 
should  he  send  his  son.  (When  he  asked  this 
question  he  had  of  course  made  up  his  mind  to 
send  him  to  Trinity.)  To  none  at  all,  quoth  I, 
and  thereby  astonished  him.  And  in  truth  the  great 
advantage  of  night  lectures,  such  as  I  spoke  of 
recently,  is  that  they  educate  a  man  without  incapa- 
citating him.  They  provide  food  for  the  mind, 
without  simultaneously  withdrawing  it  from  the 
body.  I  have  known  a  man  who  had  taken  First 
Class  Honours  in  his  Degree  and  First  Place  in 
his  year,  bitterly  regret  that  he  had  not  entered 
for  some  small  Civil  Service  Post  on  leaving  school. 

What,  indeed,  is  your  B.A.  to  do  when  he  dcffs 
his  rabbit-skin  hood  ?  He  is  no  nearer  a  living.  He 
is  too  old  to  start  medicine.  It  would  take  him 
another  five  or  six  years,  and  entail  a  large  expendi- 
ture of  money.  If  he  have  capital,  he  can,  in  another 
three  years,  join  the  overcrowded,  but  sometimes 
lucrative,  ranks  of  the  solicitor's  profession,  but  even 
for  that  he  is  a  little  old.  Then  there  is  engineering, 
for  what  it  is  worth.  He  is  not  likely  to  find  a 
vocation  for  the  Church.  If  he  has  exceptional 
examination  ability,  and  about  two  hundred  pounds, 
he  can  have  a  shot  for  the  Home  or  the  Indian  Civil 
Service ;  the  Home  Civil  in  most  cases  involves 
emigration.  He  is,  of  course,  hopelessly  unfitted 
for  a  commercial  or  industrial  career,  unless  he  has 
one  already  made  for  him  by  his  father.  He  may 

58 


THE  PLAGUE  OF  B.A.'S 

know  political  economy,  but  he  can't  work  a  letter- 
press, and  very  possibly  is  incapable  of  answering  a 
call  on  the  telephone.  Merchants  and  industrials 
unconnected  by  family  ties  simply  don't  want  him, 
and  have  no  intention  of  undertaking  the  difficult 
task  of  his  business  education.  And,  even  were  he 
not  too  old,  a  bank  would  at  once  fight  shy  of  his 
personal  appearance.  In  practice  three  careers 
remain  open  to  him  :  the  Bar,  journalism,  being 
an  M.P. 

As  regards  the  last,  I  shall  say  nothing  more  than 
that  it  seems  distinctly  easier  to  decide  to  be  an  M.P. 
than  to  become  one.  Personally  I  have  never  made 
any  effort  in  that  direction,  but  I  should  fancy 
that  a  University  degree  would  be,  if  anything,  a 
hindrance.  Whilst  as  for  the  Bar,  it  is  rather  like 
going  to  Monte  Carlo — ten  or  twenty  to  one  against 
making  a  fortune,  three  or  four  to  one  against  even 
getting  your  money  back.  Some  of  the  most  success- 
ful barristers,  as,  for  instance,  the  present  Recorder 
of  Dublin,  who  was  leader  of  the  Common  Law  Bar 
in  his  time,  never  proceeded  to  a  B.A.  degree.  As  for 
journalism — well,  all  I  can  do  is  to  give  Mr.  Punch's 
advice.  Even  in  England  literary  journalism  will 
soon  be  a  thing  of  the  past. 

Can  this  state  of  affairs  be  changed  ?  No  greater 
nonsense  was,  indeed,  ever  uttered  than  to  say  there 
are  no  educated  Catholics  to  fill  public  positions. 
The  fact  is,  that  the  positions  are  there,  the  educated 
Catholics  are  there.  They  are  never  introduced  to 
one  another.  The  element  of  truth  in  the  statement 
is  this,  that  younger  Catholics  being  seldom 
employed  in  respectable  positions  in  the  public 
service,  when  you  come  to  look  for  middle-aged 
men  to  fill  important  positions,  you  naturally 
discover  few  Catholics  among  the  men  in  the  normal 
line  of  succession.  If  anything  were  wanted  to  prove 
this,  it  is  the  number  of  really  brilliant  Catholic  men 

59 


THE  SECT  OF  THE  GAEL 

It  is  no  uncommon  thing  in  movements  that  after 
a  time  men  forget  whither  they  are  moving.  The 
means  swallow  up  the  end.  In  a  certain  sense  this 
has  happened  to  the  Irish  movement.  Copies  of 
the  Philosophy  of  Irish  Ireland  would  need  to  be  dis- 
tributed at  intervals.  (Could  some  such  body  as  the 
C.T.S.  be  induced  to  bring  out  a  penny  edition  to 
meet  the  difficulty?)  I  am  sure  I  could  bring 
together  quite  a  number  of  well-intentioned  persons 
who  would  tell  you  that  the  Irish  movement  had  for 
its  object  to  promote  temperance  by  setting  up  Irish 
classes  as  rivals  to  the  publichouse,  or  something  of 
the  sort.  Nothing  is  more  irritating,  indeed,  than 
the  condescending  approval  of  persons  who  bless  the 
Irish  movement  on  moral  grounds  only.  Parnell 
once  said  of  the  land  movement,  in  a  famous  phrase, 
that  he  never  would  have  taken  off  his  coat  to  it  had 
it  been  only  a  question  of  the  land,  and  few  Irish 
Irelanders  would  ever  have  taken  off  their  coats  to 
the  language  movement — and  they  did  take  them 
off — had  it  been  merely  a  matter  of  O'Growney. 
The  revival  of  our  language  was  adopted  as  an 
essential  element  of  national  freedom — intellectual 
freedom — and  its  object,  as  set  forth  in  the  Philosophy 
of  Irish  Ireland  for  instance,  was  to  make  Irish  the 
ordinary  medium  of  communication  between  Irish- 
men. It  was  a  purpose  extraordinarily  high,  extra- 
ordinarily difficult  of  attainment.  And  we  need  not 
be  disheartened  if  we  have  not  wholly  attained  our 
object.  The  enterprise  might  fitly  be  described  as 
miraculous,  and  though  the  Irish  movement  has 
62 


THE  SECT  OF  THE  GAEL 

achieved  many  miracles,  it  has  not  wrought  that 
one  yet. 

The  result  has  been  quite  otherwise.  It  is  nonsense 
to  say  we  use  Irish  as  our  ordinary  vehicle  of  con- 
versation. We  don't.  Most  of  us  have  only  broken 
Irish  and  are  never  likely  to  have  anything  else.  The 
bad  English  we  ordinarily  speak  is  our  effective  native 
tongue,  and  is  (illusion  and  sentiment  apart)  likely 
to  continue  to  be  so  during  our  lives.  I  succeeded 
in  keeping  up  a  conversation  for  twenty  minutes  last 
summer  with  a  man  who  knew  no  English  (a  very 
intelligent  man),  but  that  kind  of  thing  brings  matters 
no  further.  If  Ireland  is  to  become  Irish-speaking 
it  requires  a  further  miracle,  and  such  may  yet  occur, 
but  what  has  happened  up  to  this  is  of  quite  a 
different  kind.  In  fact,  if  one  might  put  it  so,  the 
Gaelic  movement  in  Ireland  has  brought  about  a 
result  something  like  John  Wesley's  movement  in 
the  Church  of  England.  He  set  out  to  reform  the 
church  to  which  he  belonged,  and  only  succeeded  in 
creating  a  new  sect  of  nonconformists.  The  Gaelic 
movement  has  in  fact  created  a  sect  of  men  of 
pure  lives  and  high  ideals,  but  leading  a  life  quite 
apart  from  the  general  body  of  the  population,  who 
look  upon  them  for  the  most  part  with  benevolent 
wonder.  As  I  heard  a  well-known  Gaelic  Leaguer 
put  it  at  a  meeting  some  weeks  ago,  Gaelic  Leaguers 
are  a  body  as  much  estranged  from  the  general  life 
of  the  people  as  are  the  Jews. 

Now  to  have  brought  into  being  a  body  of  very 
good  young  men  speaking  rather  bad  Irish,  young 
men  becoming  middle-aged  too  often  nowadays,  is 
an  excellent  thing  in  itself.  They  are  a  valuable 
asset  in  the  community.  But  it  is  very  far  from  the 
ideal  of  the  Irish  movement.  Unless  you  can  operate 
upon  the  lives  and  manners  of  the  general  population 
your  movement  has  been  a  failure.  Gaelic  Leaguers 
have  often  been  compared  to  early  Christians — every 

63 


THE  SECT  OF  THE  GAEL 

sect  makes  that  comparison — not  always  with  a 
complimentary  motive.  The  problem  I  would  suggest 
in  this  article  is,  is  it  time  to  come  out  of  the  cata- 
combs, even  though  there  be  an  inevitable  loss  of 
early  Christian  virtue  in  doing  so  ? 

In  all  Irish  morality,  "don'ts"  figure  much  more 
largely  than  "do's."  It  is  not  surprising  then  that 
"don'ts"  occupy  the  most  prominent  place  in  Irish 
Ireland  morality.  The  proportion  of  the  one  real 
"do,"  namely,  "  learn  Irish,"  is  quite  small  by  com- 
parison. How  many  books  of  O'Grovvney  would  be 
a  compensation  for  one  cricket  match,  for  instance  ? 
Not  that  I  in  the  least  favour  that  absurd  exotic, 
cricket.  But  you  will  never  in  our  time  get  the 
general  public  to  live  at  the  intense  pressure  of  Irish 
Ireland  morality  or  I  am  greatly  mistaken.  Most  of 
them  shrink  from  treading  that  high  narrow  path 
on  which  one  false  step  means  destruction.  And 
as  they  grow  corpulently  old  their  disinclination 
increases  the  more.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
fight  for  compulsory  Irish  showed  that  the  general 
body  of  the  nation  were  whole-heartedly  on  the 
side  of  the  Irish  movement,  and  that  in  fact  the 
"Philosophy  of  Irish  Ireland"  had  become  the  phil- 
osophy, though  not  as  yet  the  practice,  of  Ireland  as 
a  whole.  Can  it  be  made  the  practice  ?  Is  there 
any  method  of  taking  advantage  of  this  new  situation  ? 
The  average  man  is  on  the  side  of  Gaelic.  Can  he  be 
made  Gaelic  in  a  full  sense  ?  The  existing  apparatus 
of  the  Gaelic  League  does  not,  I  fancy,  provide  any 
means  for  doing  so.  It  is  too  hard  for  the  average 
man  to  live  the  life  of  a  Gaelic  Leaguer.  There  has 
even  been  a  reaction  against  the  Irish  movement  in 
many  directions.  Irish  songs,  for  instance,  have 
been  almost  banished  from  the  concert  stage;  Irish 
singing  and  dancing  have  been  shut  up  like  a 
beleaguered  garrison  within  the  fortress  of  the  League 
itself.  Is  it  possible  to  effect  a  sally  without  abandoning 
64 


THE  SECT  OF  THE  GAEL 

the  fortress  ?  That  is  the  question,  and  though  I 
have  started  the  problem,  I  do  not  profess  to  solve  it. 
Let  me  take  a  single  example.  Take  the  case 
of  hurley,  a  magnificent  game,  with  a  wealth  of  tra- 
dition behind  it,  yet  absolutely  cold-shouldered  by 
the  upper  middle  class.  Suppose  you  wanted  to 
introduce  hurley  into  Blackrock  College1 — I  can 
speak  about  that  institution  with  a  mind  wholly 
unbiassed  by  the  facts,  as  my  acquaintance  with  it 
is  only  such  as  can  be  derived  from  the  top  of  a  tram. 
I  suspect  that  it  would  not  be  really  difficult  to  intro- 
duce hurley  into  that  college  by  a  strong  effort,  if 
that  were  all  you  wanted,  if  you  confined  yourself 
to  the  "  do."  But  if  you  wanted  to  bring  in  a 
"  don't "  as  well,  if  you  wanted  them  to  give  up  their 
Rugby,  they  would  see  you  much  further  than  the 
Irish  movement  has  yet  progressed.  This  is  but  a 
type  of  the  whole.  The  number  who  admire  prin- 
ciples is  very  large,  but  the  number  who  are  ready 
to  exchange  pleasures  for  principles  is  quite  small, 
perhaps  because  they  have  bartered  so  many 
pleasures  for  food  and  clothes  and  lodging  already. 
If  you  want  a  wide  extension  for  a  movement,  you 
must  sadly  limit  its  comprehension.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  you  go  in  for  Logic  and  Jansenism,  you  will 
spend  your  efforts  at  Port  Royal.  The  most  rigid 
disciplinarian  in  the  severest  Order  never  yet  pre- 
scribed the  same  rule  for  the  laity  as  for  the  religious. 

1 1  understand  it  has  been  lately  introduced. 


RUGBY  FOOTBALL  AND  THE 
"CONDUMNIUM" 

I  hope  "  Condumnium  "  is  right.  Unless  there  is 
a  misprint  in  the  book  from  which  I  take  the  word, 
it  signifies  the  state  of  things  existing  in  those 
European  monasteries,  where  some  of  the  monks 
lived  according  to  the  harder  Irish  rule,  and  others 
followed  the  easier  rule  of  Continental  monasticism. 
The  result  was  in  every  instance  what  might  be 
expected  in  such  a  case.  Human  nature  won  the 
day.  The  easier  rule  triumphed,  and  before  long 
Irish  monasticism  disappeared,  leaving  nought  save 
a  name  behind  it.  But  this  is  not  an  essay  on 
monasticism.  Rather  it  is  about  Rugby  football 
and  things  of  the  sort. 

I  was  not  at  the  famous  "  international "  where 
"we"  won  the  other  day.  I  should  like  to  have 
been,  but  stayed  away  in  churlish  virtue.  However, 
I  almost  got  the  effect  of  being  there  by  lunching  at 
a  restaurant '  where  everybody  else  was  going, 
meanly  explaining  "  I  hadn't  got  a  ticket  " — oh ! 
thin  pretence  of  ascetic  patriotism  !  Two  other 
facts  have  recently  floated  into  my  conscience.  I 
was  looking  at  a  photograph  of  a  "  soccer  "  team 
the  other  day.  I  happened  to  know  six  of  its  twelve 
members.  (I  am  counting  in  the  draped  secretary.) 
Of  the  six,  four  to  my  certain  knowledge  and  a 
possible  fifth  were  expert  in  Gaelic,  i.e.,  not  Gaelic 
football,  but  the  Gaelic  language.  Some  of  them 
were  indeed  of  exceptional  expertnessin  this  subject. 
The  same  evening  I  met  perhaps  the  most  Gaelic 
person  of  my  acquaintance.  He  is  equally  versed 
66 


RUGBY  FOOTBALL 

in  Irish  language,  music,  dancing,  etc.  He  can  play 
hurley.  He  wears  a  kilt.  He  is  a  Volunteer,  and 
thereby,  of  course,  incurs  a  liability  to  many  years' 
imprisonment.  He  is,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  a 
true  enthusiast.  He  announced  his  intention  of 
playing  in  his  first  Rugby  match,  whereupon  we 
trousered  hypocrites  cast  up  our  eyes,  and  one  that 
was  there  upbraided  him.  It  was  much  as  if  he  had 
announced  his  intention,  let  us  say,  of  getting  married 
in  a  Registry  Office. 

Now  this  is  the  "religious"  conception  of  Gaeldom, 
pure  and  simple,  and  the  question  is  whether  it  is  a 
wise  one.  As  we  all  know  from  the  green  catechism, 
if  you  refuse  to  accept  any  one  doctrine,  you  might 
as  well,  for  practical  purposes,  reject  all  the  others 
as  well.  That  is  the  characteristic  of  religion.  And 
it  will  be  observed  that  the  doctrine  of  Irish  Ireland 
is  worked  out  exactly  on  this  basis.  A  man  may 
think,  speak,  dress,  fight, sing  and  live  "  Irish-Irishly," 
but  if  he  playeth  Rugbically,it  profiteth  him  nothing. 
A  man  living  in  cricket  is  living  in  sin.  I  knew  a 
poor  man  indeed,  a  real  hero  of  our  own  country, 
whose  greatest  asset  in  life  was  a  leg-break,  and  he 
gave  it  all  up  and  resigned  himself  to  a  life  of 
inactivity  on  principle.  Many  saints  have  done  less. 
Fortunately  tennis,  though  ever  suspect,  is  not,  I 
believe,  yet  definitely  and  clearly  on  the  index;  per- 
haps the  memory  of  the  tennis-court  oath  saves  it. 
As  for  golf,  I  only  know  a  single  Gael  who  is  a  golfer; 
I  know  quite  a  number  of  golfers  who  are  ex-Gaels. 
And  this  is  natural.  As  things  are  if  you  give  up  one 
point  you  give  up  all.  The  religious  conception  of 
being  "  Irish-Irish  "  drives  out  an  enormous  number 
of  persons,  who  perhaps  differ  on  but  a  single  point 
of  practice,  as  I  am  sure  that  in  the  South  Seas  there 
have  been  many  who  felt  that  they  would  willingly 
embrace  the  doctrines  of  the  missionary  if  only  he 
would  accommodate  them  on  one  point;  if  he  would 
67 


RUGBY  FOOTBALL 

withdraw  his  objection  to  their  consuming  the  leg  of 
a  well-cooked  baby  occasionally.  The  illustration, 
of  course,  begs  the  question.  Even  as  it  is  I  know 
among  the  younger  men  of  to-day — brought  up  in  a 
later  school  than  us  elders — a  surprising  number  of 
examples  of  combination  and  partial  performance, 
cricketers  who  dance  Irish  dances,  "soccer-playing" 
Gaelic  Leaguers,  Irish-speaking  and  kilt-wearing 
Rugbyites,  and  the  rest.  The  question  is,  should 
this  tolerance  of  view  and  practice  be  extended  and 
the  "  religious,"  i.e.,  "  take-it-or-leave-it "  conception 
definitely  put  aside.  By  the  way,  why  is  it  always 
the  unimportant  points  that  are  most  insisted  on  ? 
No  one  insists  on  a  member  of  the  Gaelic  Athletic 
Association  speaking  Gaelic  in  the  same  way  that  it 
is  insisted  that  an  Irish  student  shall  play  Gaelic. 
Reverting  to  the  case  of  my  kilted  friend,  if  every 
member  of  the  Gaelic  Athletic  Association,  who 
suffered  from  a  cosmopolitan  clinging  to  trousers, 
were  to  stand  condemned,  what  would  be  its 
membership  ? 

All  of  which  brings  us  back  to  the  "  condumnium," 
the  system  of  take  your  choice  and  go  as  you  please, 
with  which  I  started.  But  the  result  in  former 
times  was,  and  if  no  preference  be  given  to  Irish 
things,  would  I  believe  be  again,  that  things  Irish 
would  be  wiped  out,  not  because  they  were  worse, 
but  in  most  cases  because  they  were  better  and 
therefore  harder.  For  the  whole  tendency  of  West- 
Britainism  is  to  reduce  everything  to  a  flat  level  of 
dullness.  You  might  almost  take  the  dull  flat  waltz1 
substituted  for  the  figured  Irish  dance  as  the  type  of 
the  process.  The  English  song,  be  it  drawingroom 
or  music-hall,  empty  of  thought  and  music,  but  easily 
popular,  is  another  example  of  the  same  tendency. 
Moreover  there  are  tremendous  forces  consciously 

1  Nowadays  the  "  one-step." 

68 


RUGBY  FOOTBALL 

employed  against  things  Irish.  The  national  battle 
of  England  is  waged  incessantly  and  in  all  directions 
at  the  same  time.  Catholic  students  may  play 
English  games.  It  is  not  through  accident  that 
Trinity  College  plays  no  Irish  ones.  Indeed  a 
Gaelic  Leaguer  might  be  tempted  to  say,  only  that 
it  isn't  Irish,  Quo  messieurs  les  assassins  commencement. 

If  an  American  baseball  team  visits  Britain  and 
seems  to  threaten  hurt  to  British  national  pastimes, 
there  will  not  be  wanting  a  British  editor  to  ridicule 
or  denounce  them.  Nineteen-twentieths  of  the  power 
and  wealth  of  the  English  in  Ireland  is  of  set  purpose 
directed  against  native  Irish  institutions  of  all  kinds. 
Its  force  is  so  great  that  it  induces  a  like  hostility 
among  the  wealthier  Catholic  classes.  The  remain- 
ing twentieth  patronise  them  patronisingly.  Hence 
I  believe  we  dare  not  accept  the  free  "  condumnium." 
On  the  other  hand,  the  "  religious  "  conception  of 
Irish  Ireland  has  been  carried  too  far,  and  has  led 
to  our  more  than  losing  in  numbers  what  we  have 
gained  in  force  and  effectiveness.  In  my  view  the 
attitude  of  absolute  compulsion  (with  virtual  excom- 
munication as  its  sanction)  should  be  dropped,  and 
no  more  than  that  "  decided  preference  "  which  we 
claim  for  our  manufactures  ought  to  be  demanded 
for  our  institutions.  But  it  must  be  a  real  preference, 
and  the  great  difficulty  is  to  secure  this.  Let  not  a 
man  be  excommunicated  for  Rugby  football,  any 
more  than  for  Danish  butter ;  nay,  even  though  he 
combine  the  study  of  Irish  with  a  taste  for  low 
music-hall  songs,  a  combination  far  from  uncommon, 
let  us  still  cherish  him.  But  see  to  it,  all  the  same, 
that  there  is  a  real  preference  for  Irish  goods, Irish 
games,  and  Irish  music  sufficient  to  countervail  the 
English  attack. 

One  other  interesting  point  remains.  A  friend 
recently  said  to  me  :  "  The  exclusion  of  Ulster  is 
the  logical  outcome  of  your  Irish  Ireland  ideas. 
69 


RUGBY  FOOTBALL 

You  have,  in  the  terms  of  logic,  increased  the  com- 
prehension, or  '  connotation '  of  the  idea  of  Ireland, 
this  has  inevitably  decreased  the  *  extension '  or 
'  denotation '  of  the  idea.  If  you  are  to  have  a  full 
concept  of  Irish  nationality,  a  concept,  full  with 
language,  history,  religion,  music,  life,  how  can 
the  Protestant  music-hall-going,  '  soccer '-playing, 
English-thinking,  Ulsterman  be  brought  under  it  ? 
The  inevitable  result  is  exclusion."  But  this  raises 
too  broad  a  problem  to  deal  with  further  in  this  essay. 


SOME  LIES  OF  EARLY  IRISH 
HISTORY 

History  we  all  know  becomes  offensive  if  it  has 
any  smell  of  fact.1  The  statement  that  history  is 
"the  lie  agreed  upon  "  is  indeed  a  paradox  that  has 
by  this  time  almost  mellowed  into  platitude.  Pro- 
fessor Kettle  has  merely  improved  on  it  by  setting  it 
down  that  Irish  history  is  the  lie  disagreed  upon.  To 
this  I  only  object  that  the  disagreement  does  not 
begin  soon  enough ;  it  does  not  go  back  much  beyond 
Strongbow.  I  hope  to  deal  in  this  article  with  some 
disputed  points,  or  points  that  ought  to  be  disputed 
in  a  still  earlier  period. 

It  is,  to  begin  with,  a  question  whether  the  man 
of  the  old  stone  age  ever  reached  Ireland.  Most 
probably  he  did  not.  Ireland  was,  however,  certainly 
in  the  full  tide  of  the  civilization  of  the  new  stone 
age. 

But  we  may  pass  by  these  matters  as  they  have  no 
direct  bearing  on  present  day  politics.  The  same 
cannot  be  said  of  the  next  point  how  far  the  Irish 
nation  are  a  Celtic  people.  From  Matthew  Arnold  to 
Mommsen  more  appalling  nonsense  has  been  written 
about  the  Celtic  characteristics  of  the  Irish  people 
than  perhaps  on  any  other  known  subject.  By  the 
way,  to  make  a  momentary  digression,  have  you 
ever  noticed  how  this  particular  kind  of  thfng  is 
worked,  as  regards  the  ancient  Romans  for  instance, 
you  can  always  have  it  either  way.  "The  cold, 

JThe  references  are  to  The  History  of  Ireland  by  Arthur  Ua 
Clerigh,  K.C.  (Fisher  Unwin.) 

71 


SOME  LIES  OF  EARLY  IRISH  HISTORY 

impassive  Roman  remained  seated  in  his  curule  chair 
unmoved  by  the  taunts  of  the  Gaulish  invader,"  or 
if  you  prefer  it,  "  His  hot  Italian  nature  could  brook 
the  insults  no  longer;  he  felled  him  with  a  blow." 
Head  I  win ;  harp  you  lose. 

Celticism,  we  are  told,  is  the  second  dose  of  original 
sin,  and  the  other  party  of  English  critics  who  deign 
to  patronize  us  only  improve  on  this  by  saying  what 
an  attractive  thing  sin  is,  even  if  it  be  original, 
and  even  though  you  have  a  double  measure  of  it. 
What  a  delightful,  impracticable  people  these  Irish 
are;  how  lovable  their  Celtic  temperament.  As  a 
matter  of  sober  fact,  until  the  new  French  Professor 
in  the  National  University  is  appointed,  probably  the 
only  real  Celt  left  in  Ireland  is  the  French  Consul, 
if  he  be  a  Celt. 

Your  true  Celt — the  only  variety  recognized  by 
the  scientific  ethnologist — is  the  black-haired,  bullet- 
headed,  sallow-complexioned  man  of  the  comic 
papers,  who  saves  his  money  and  cherishes  his  dinner 
in  the  centre  of  France.  There  is  not  improbably 
a  considerable  admixture  of  these  among  the  dark, 
green-eyed  population  of  England,  the  normal  type 
of  Londoner  for  instance — the  fair-haired,  blue-eyed 
Saxon  is  a  pure  myth — but  none  of  these  Celts  ever 
reached  our  shores.  They  would  have  had  to  get 
round  Great  Britain  to  do  so.  When  they  set  out 
on  their  travels  they  preferred  to  cross  by  Dover  and 
Calais.  There  is,  indeed,  a  considerable  brunette 
population,  short  in  stature,  along  the  southern  and 
western  shores  of  Ireland — the  Spanish,  or,  as 
uncomplimentary  critics,  and  perhaps  rivals,  call 
it,  the  "  Danny-man  "  type — but  they  are  not  Celts. 
They  are  descended  from  the  dark  non-Celtic,  long- 
headed races  who  lived  along  the  Mediterranean, 
especially  in  the  South  of  France,  and  came  by  sea 
to  Ireland. 

It  is  from  the  extreme  north  of  Europe,  however 

72 


SOME  LIES  OF  EARLY  IRISH  HISTORY 

that  the  most  important  element  in  our  population, 
the  Gaels  (or  Milesians)  came  to  us.  Still  blue- 
eyed  and  long-headed,  and  in  those  times  fair-haired, 
or  even  red-haired,  they  are  almost  certainly  a 
Teutonic  people.  The  whole  centre  and  eastern 
seaboard  of  our  country  was  settled  by  them.  Save 
only  for  a  further  admixture  of  fair-haired  northmen, 
they  have  maintained  their  type  down  to  our  own 
time.  It  is  from  the  mingling  of  the  dark  race  with 
the  fair  that  the  type  of  black  hair  and  blue  eyes, 
which,  when  it  occurs,  is  the  most  striking  type  of 
Irish  beauty,  comes  about.  Gaelic,  which  is  of 
course  a  Celtic  tongue,  seems  at  all  times  of  which 
we  have  any  account  to  have  been  the  common 
language  of  both  peoples,  both  before  their  coming 
to  Ireland  and  afterwards.  But  the  one  thing 
definitely  established  about  them,  as  about  the 
darker  inhabitants  of  our  western  shores,  is  that 
they  were  not  and  consequently  we  are  not  Celts. 

The  next  historical  romance  I  wish  to  investigate 
is  the  great  anti-clerical  story  of  the  destruction  of 
Tara.  The  anti-clerical  chiffonier  has  always  been 
an  eager  delver  in  the  field  of  early  Irish  history, 
hoping  ever  to  find  there  the  ammunition  of  present- 
day  controversy.  The  story  of  the  destruction  of 
the  centre  of  Irish  unity  by  St.  Ruadhan  upon  a 
trifling  scruple  seemed  naturally  an  effective  addition 
to  his  armoury. 

The  story  is  ordinarily  told  in  this  way:  "Guaire 
gave  a  stroke  of  his  sword  to  the  king's  spearman 
and  took  his  head  off.  This  Guaire  was  half-brother 
to  St.  Ruadhan  of  Lothra,  to  whom  he  fled  for  pro- 
tection. The  saint  made  a  hole  in  the  floor  of  his 
hut  and  put  Guaire  into  it.  When  the  king  arrived, 
the  king  saluted  Ruadhan  with  bitter  words,  saying 
it  did  not  belong  to  one  of  his  cloth  to  shelter  a  man 
who  had  killed  the  king's  sergeant,  and  prayed  that 
there  might  be  no  abbot  or  monk  to  succeed  him  at 

73 


SOME  LIES  OF  EARLY  IRISH  HISTORY 

Lothra.  *  By  God's  grace,'  said  Ruadhan,  '  there 
shall  be  abbots  and  monks  for  ever,  and  there  shall 
be  no  king  dwelling  in  Tara  from  henceforth.'  The 
king  asked  where  Guaire  was.  '  I  know  not,'  said 
Ruadhan,  '  unless  he  be  where  you  stand,'  for  so  he 
was  indeed,  under  the  king's  feet.  The  king  after- 
wards had  suspicions,  searched,  found  Guaire  and 
took  him  prisoner  to  Tara,  Ruadhan  followed  him, 
and  on  his  refusing  to  release  Guaire,  Ruadhan  and 
a  bishop  that  was  with  him,  took  their  bells,  which 
they  rung  hard,  and  cursed  the  king  and  place,  and 
prayed  God  no  king  or  queen  ever  after  would  or 
could  dwell  in  Tara,  and  it  should  be  waste  for  ever 
without  court  or  palace,  as  it  fell  out  accordingly." 
The  fall  of  Tara  is  in  reality  not  to  be  explained 
by  this  absurd  legend,  which,  even,  as  it  is,  goes  on 
to  state  that  St.  Ruadhan  eventually  ransomed  his 
brother  for  thirty  horses,  which  one  might  assume 
was  the  end  of  the  lock-out,  but  by  a  much  simpler 
cause.  Tara,  in  the  centre  of  Ireland,  lay  in  the 
territory  of  the  Southern  O'Neills,  who  were  at  this 
time  in  a  perpetual  state  of  war  with  the  Northern 
O'Neills.  The  famous  battle  of  Cuildreimhne,  for 
which  St.  Columcille  is  wrongly  held  responsible, 
was  the  eighth  battle  between  these  two  clans  in 
sixty  years.  It  resulted  in  the  Northern  O'Neills 
wresting  the  sovereignty  from  their  kinsmen  as  the 
fruit  of  their  victory.  The  Northern  O'Neills  there- 
upon transferred  the  seat  of  Irish  Government  away 
from  Tara  to  a  place  near  Deny,  in  their  own  terri- 
tory in  the  north,  much  as  another  conquering  race 
transferred  the  seat  of  government  from  Dublin  to 
London  in  after  days.  To  hold  two  saints,  one  of 
them  a  famous  advocate  of  peace,  responsible  for 
these  ordinary  tribal  amenities  is  ridiculous.  The 
stories  that  seek  to  fix  them  with  liability  are  evident 
romances.  "  The  battle  of  Cuildreimhne  would  have 
been  fought  if  Columcille  had  never  existed,  and  the 

74 


SOME  LIES  OF  EARLY  IRISH  HISTORY 

desertion  of  Tara  can  be  accounted  for  without 
praying  in  aid,  the  bells  and  curses  of  St.  Ruadhan." 

Another  wild  legend  found  embodied  in  our  earlier 
Irish  histories  is  that  which  states,  on  the  faith  of 
certain  manuscripts,  that  the  Irish  Church  began  its 
career  with  three  hundred  and  fifty  bishops,  all  saints. 
In  sober  fact  there  were  about  fifty,  one  for  each 
of  the  dioceses.  Their  jurisdiction  was  essentially 
territorial.  And  each  diocese  corresponded  to 
the  territory  of  a  single  tribe,  thus  Kilmacduagh 
corresponded  to  the  territory  of  the  Ui  Fiachra 
Aidhne,  Ross  to  the  territory  of  the  Corca-Laidhe, 
Ossory  very  nearly  represents  the  tribe  land  of  the 
Ui  Osraighe,  and  Dromore  the  tribe  land  of  the 
Ui  Ecac — Iveagh.  The  dioceses  are  the  oldest 
existing  divisions  of  our  country. 

The  next  legend,  with  which  it  may  be  worth  while 
to  deal,  is  that  which  represents  King  Brian  of  the 
Tribute,  the  tribute  which  he  exacted  from  the  men 
of  Leinster,  as  something  in  the  nature  of  a  national, 
or  even  a  Christian,  hero  instead  of  the  ambitious 
tribal  chief — no  better  or  worse  than  other  chieftains 
—which  he  actually  was.  The  fact  that  the  battle  of 
Clontarf  happened  to  be  fought  on  Good  Friday  has 
lent  colour  to  the  story.  No  doubt  Brian's  ultimate 
success,  like  that  of  other  ambitious  kings  in  Europe, 
would  have  benefitted  his  country  by  the  unity  it 
must  have  brought  about.  But  the  battle  of  Clontarf 
was  not  in  any  sense  a  national  or  religious  conflict 
between  the  Irish  and  the  foreigner,  as  it  is  commonly 
represented  to  be.  The  men  of  Ulster,  Ulidia  and 
North  Connacht  stood  aloof  from  it.  The  men  of 
Leinster  and  Ossory  fought  shoulder  to  shoulder 
with  the  Norsemen.  Brian  had  only  the  Dal  Cais, 
the  men  of  South  Munster  and  South  Connacht,  and 
possibly — though  this  is  disputed — the  men  of  Meath 
under  Maelseachlainn.  The  Danes  living  in  Ireland 
and  Dublin,  who  took  part  in  the  battle,  were  very 

75 


SOME  LIES  OF  EARLY  IRISH  HISTORY 

largely  Christian.  The  Northmen  from  over  the  sea 
were  to  some  extent  Christian,  and  certainly  came  to 
Clontarf  for  hire  and  plunder,  and  not  to  wreak 
vengeance  or  extirpate  Christianity.  Brian's  own 
daughter  was  married  to  Sitric,  the  king  of  the  Dublin 
Danes.  It  has  even  been  asserted  that  Brian  himself 
married  Sitric's  mother,  Queen  Gormlaith.  But 
seeing  that  Queen  Gormlaith  had  a  husband  and 
Brian  a  wife  at  the  time,  there  are,  to  say  the  least, 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  accepting  this  last  story. 
But,  be  this  as  it  may,  the  Danes  had  by  that  time 
become  an  integral  part  of  the  Irish  people,  and  were 
more  Gaelic  than  the  Gaels  themselves.  The  battle 
of  Clontarf  differed  very  little  in  its  essence  from  the 
many  inter-tribal  contests  in  which  ambitious  kings 
and  chiefs  found  themselves  perpetually  engaged 
in  Ireland. 

I  come  finally  to  the  celebrated  love-story  of 
Dermot  MacMurrough.  Our  own  story  of  Sir  Tristan 
and  the  lady  of  Chapelizod  having  been  definitely 
appropriated  by  the  Germans,  it  was  necessary  to 
find  something  else.  The  romantic  elopement  of 
Dearbhforgail  (or  Dervorgilla)  seemed  to  be  eminently 
suitable  for  the  purpose.  And  as  it  coincided  with 
the  arrival  on  our  shores  of  that  highly  sentimental 
people,  the  English,  it  has  attained  a  considerable 
popularity.  It  has  even  been  looked  upon  as  an 
improving  anecdote,  owing  to  its  political  moral. 
Now,  of  the  pair  of  alleged  lovers  in  this  case,  it  may 
be  stated  in  limine  that  Dearbhforgail,  the  lady,  was 
aged  44,  and  Dermot  about  65,  at  the  time  of  the 
supposed  romance. 

The  Four  Masters  say:  "Dearbhforgail,  daughter 
of  Murchadh  Ua  Maelseachlainn,  wife  of  Tigherman 
Ua  Ruarc,  was  brought  away  by  the  King  of  Leinster, 
with  her  cattle  and  furniture,  and  he  took  them 
with  her  according  to  the  advice  of  her  brother 
Maelseachlainn." 

76 


SOME  LIES  OF  EARLY  IRISH  HISTORY 

The  entry  in  the  continuator  of  Tighernach  is 
simply :  "  The  daughter  of  Murchadh  came  away  by 
flight  from  Leinster." 

In  reality  she  was  probably  taken  away  for  safe 
keeping  and  as  a  hostage,  with  the  consent  of  her 
family,  and  restored  to  her  husband  when  he  made  a 
submission  to  Turlough  O'Connor.  There  was  no 
romance  in  the  matter  whatever.  She  was,  it  may 
be  added,  a  great  benefactor  to  the  Church,  and  died 
at  Mellifont  in  the  85th  year  of  her  age.  The  popular 
fable  is  a  cruel  insult  to  the  memory  of  a  good  woman. 
Father  George  O'Neill  has  also  dealt  with  this  matter. 

Of  the  whole  story  we  may  say  with  the  Greek  poet : 

o  Aoyos. 


77 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DIALECT 

It  seems  as  if  we  are  in  for  a  period  of  anti- 
democratic reaction.  It  has  come  a  little  later  in 
the  twentieth  century  than  it  did  in  the  nineteenth  ; 
that  is  all.  In  Rome  it  was  always  the  Volscians  who 
blighted  the  aspirations  of  the  plebs.  As  far  as 
politics  are  concerned,  the  democrat  has  little  to 
hope  for,  except  perhaps  the  complete  equality  of 
empire.  In  these  circumstances  I  venture  to  suggest 
a  new  field  for  his  labours,  an  intellectual  field.  The 
literary  oppression  of  the  lower  classes  is  enormously 
greater  than  their  political  oppression  has  ever  been, 
even  under  the  worst  governments.  It  is  stronger, 
deeper,  and  better  sustained  than  those  tyrannies  of 
birth,  creed,  cplour,  or  race,  against  which  humanity 
has  at  different  times  cried  out.  Indeed  it  is  so 
strong  that  it  can  even  do  that  which  is  the  supreme 
achievement  of  tyranny,  it  can  suppress  the  mention 
of  itself. 

The  matter  can  be  put  in  a  single  sentence. 
Modern  civilization  allows  the  poor  man  a  vote ;  it 
refuses  him  a  voice.  His  words,  spoken  and  written, 
are  treated  as  filth — sound  or  symbols  in  their  wrong 
place — and  every  available  means  taken  to  suppress 
them.  The  dialect  or  slang  of  a  very  limited  class, 
into  which  it  is  impossible  to  gain  an  entry  without 
wealth,  or  (too  often)  with  morals  is  arbitrarily  fixed 
upon  as  a  standard.  And  every  man  is  invited  to 
express  his  thoughts  in  this  dialect  or  maintain  a 
dead  silence  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  But  in 
modern  times  an  alleviation  is  attempted.  The  poor 
are  educated  up  to  a  certain  point.  Great  pains  are 
taken  to  teach  them  the  favoured  dialect,  and  many 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DIALECT 

men  of  humble  condition  even  succeed  in  mastering 
it,  in  a  sense.  So  Frenchmen,  native  Irishmen, 
and  Germans — especially  Germans — master  English. 
But  they  don't  produce  English  literature.  You 
can't  write  really  well  in  a  foreign  language.  Even 
a  great  writer  can't  do  it.  Gibbon,  Burns,  and  our 
own  Owen  Roe  each  attempted  it,  and  each  failed 
miserably.  Think  again  of  the  incomparable  energy 
and  even  the  supreme  ability  that  has  for  centuries 
been  devoted  to  composition  in  the  Latin  and  Greek 
languages,  and  the  literary  result — absolutely  nothing. 
And  yet  the  poor  are  permanently  condemned  to  write 
in  a  foreign  language  the  dialect  before  alluded  to. 

Let  us  take  the  case  of  Burns  himself.  Like  Lord 
Bacon,  he  possessed  two  languages,  in  one  of  which, 
his  own  language,  he  could  write,  and  in  the  other 
of  which,  he  thought  he  could  write.  The  latter 
was  the  respectable  language.  What  a  tremendous 
blessing  for  Burns  that  he  was  a  Scot,  and  so  mi'ght 
make  bold  to  write  in  a  separate  dialect.  Had  he 
been  born  an  Englishman  of  the  lower  classes,  he 
might  also  have  possessed  two  languages,  literary 
English  and  his  own.  But  he  would  have  been 
afraid  to  write  his  own  English;  and  would  have 
stayed  a  minor  poet  all  his  life,  or  else  remained 
wholly  silent.  Tasso  and  Dante  would  have  had  no 
better  fate  had  they  written  in  Latin  instead  of  the 
unlearned  Italian. 

Now,  my  thesis  is  simply  this :  that  (Bradley's 
Arnold  notwithstanding)  no  one  dialect  is  better  or 
worse  than  any  other,  that  each  man  should  speak 
in  the  dialect  that  comes  natural  to  him,  and  write 
as  he  speaks.  The  poor  have  powers  of  observation 
and  even  of  reflection  much  above  those  of  the  rich. 
They  have  a  greater  sense  of  life.  They  have  a 
deeper  religious  sense,  and  there  are  to  be  found 
among  them  men  with  all  those  keen  sensuous  per- 
ceptions and  imaginative  strivings  that  make  the 

79 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DIALECT 

poet.  And  if  they  are  Scots  ploughmen,  they  some- 
times prove  this  fact  by  expressing  what  they  feel. 
But  among  most  European  peoples  the  literary 
tyranny  is  too  strong  for  them.  They  are  educated 
or  intimidated.  They  remain  mute  and  inglorious, 
simply  because  they  are  taught  that,  if  they  write 
at  all,  it  is  their  duty  to  be  Miltons. 

The  most  surprising  example  of  this  principle  at 
work  is  American  literature.  It  has  been  cause  for 
perpetual  remark  that  for  their  size  and  population, 
the  United  States  have  contributed  singularly  little 
to  the  literature  of  the  English  language,  which  they 
speak.  Various  explanations  have  been  offered,  as 
that  Americans  are  not  educated  or  not  interested 
in  literature.  Both  statements  are  patently  untrue. 
I  suggest  that  the  real  explanation  is  that  American 
writers,  like  Burns  in  his  English  writings,  and 
Bacon  in  his  Latin,  are  composing  in  a  language 
that  is  not  their  own,  and  earning  literary  mediocrity 
for  the  reward.  If  they  would  throw  the  English 
language  into  Boston  harbour  and  take  courage  to 
write  in  that  vivid  American,  which  is  really  their 
native  tongue,  they  would  find  the  same  amazing 
results  flowing  from  literary  as  from  political  freedom. 
As  it  is,  the  best  and  freshest  things  in  American 
literature  are  those  compositions  in  real  American, 
which  under  the  guise  of  dialogue  or  humour  have 
found  their  way  into  the  literature  of  the  United 
States.  Humour  has  always  been  the  first  defence 
against  tyranny.  Who  would  not  prefer  David 
Harum  to  the  vapidities  of  Washington  Irving  ? 
Some  day  American  literature  will  take  courage  to 
be  itself. 

To  compare  a  small  people  with  a  very  great,  much 
the  same  is  true  of  the  attempts  of  the  native  Irish 
(I  am  one  of  them)  to  write  English.  Mangan,  the 
most  successful,  owes  far  more  to  his  Gaelic  originals 
than  is  usually  recognized.  Next  comes  Moore,  a 
80 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DIALECT 

clever  versifier,  but  scarcely  a  great  poet.  After  him 
a  few  novelists  and  one  poet  who  reach  mediocrity, 
and  a  vast  number  of  writers  who  do  not  even  attain 
that  standard.  These  men  were  all  trying  to  write 
a  foreign  language.  The  results  they  achieved  are 
ludicrously  small  in  comparison  with  the  splendid 
contribution  made  to  the  literature  of  the  English 
language  by  the  English  colonists  in  Ireland  from 
Swift  down  to  our  own  time. 

In  these  last  examples  there  are  of  course  national 
differences,  but  the  principle  is  the  same.  The 
American  and  the  Irish  Gael  are  no  further  away 
from  literary  English  than  are  the  lower  classes  of 
the  various  European  countries  from  their  literary 
dialects.  The  suggestion  to  give  voice  to  these  lower 
classes,  it  need  scarcely  be  said,  lends  itself  readily  to 
light  humour.  All  movements  of  emancipation  do. 
Voices  for  men  is  quite  as  funny  as  votes  for  women, 
and,  Heaven  knows,  that  kept  the  humorists  going 
long  enough.  Some  brilliant  things,  with  the  words 
"Not  'arf"  coming  in  frequently,  could  be  written 
about  the  new  literary  compositions  of  the  poor.  If 
professional  humorists  ever  dip  into  so  serious  a  maga- 
zine as  Studies  I  recommend  the  suggestion  to  them. 

My  proposals,  if  they  are  understood  at  all,  will  be 
seen  to  be  highly  revolutionary.  They  strike  at  the 
oldest,  deepest,  and  best-established  tyranny,  the 
most  potent  instrument  of  oppression  in  the  world, 
literary  or  linguistic  tyranny.  It  is  proposed  that 
as  democracy  allows  the  poor  man  to  think  for  himself 
and  to  vote  for  himself,  so  he  shall  be  listened  to 
when  he  speaks  for  himself.  I  suppose  most  people 
have  already  decided  that  I  am  running  my  head 
against  a  stone  wall,  attacking  institutions  and  con- 
ventions, of  which  the  foundations  are  laid  too  deep 
for  them  to  be  easily  shaken.  It  reads  very  well  on 
paper,  but  in  practice'!  Will  they  be  surprised  to 
hear  that  the  thing  has  already  been  not  merely 
G  81 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DIALECT 

attempted,  but  actually  done,  and  that  it  has  been 
a  complete  success.  Where  ?  In  Korea,  perhaps. 
No ;  not  in  Korea,  in  another  small  country — in  the 
west.  In  fact,  to  give  away  the  secret,  in  Ireland. 

You  have  probably  heard  of  a  certain  Dr.  Kuno 
Meyer,  who  received  the  freedom  of  Dublin.  Did 
you  ever  hear  of  a  certain  Father  Peter  O'Leary,  who 
got  it  the  same  day  ?  His  achievement  was  that  he 
did  everything  suggested  in  this  article,  and  did  it 
successfully.  There  was  in  Irish,  as  in  other  greater 
languages,  a  literary  dialect.  It  had  traces  of  Cicero 
about  it.  The  greatest  Irish  writers  had  written  in 
it.  After  a  sharp  combat  he  overthrew  it,  and 
insisted  on  writing  in  the  common  speech  of  the 
common  people.  The  result  has  been  a  renaissance 
in  modern  Gaelic  literature,  comparable  to  the  earlier 
renaissance  that  arose  in  Gaelic  poetry,  from  the 
overthrow  of  the  bardic  schools.  Gaelic  is  a  small 
and  weak  language,  spoken  by  comparatively  few. 
Yet,  even  in  Gaelic,  a  return  to  truth  has  wrought 
marvellous  results.  The  battle  is  over,  and  the  thing 
is  admitted  nowadays.  What  must  be  the  result  of 
such  a  return  to  truth  in  any  of  the  greater  languages  ? 
If  France  would  dare  to  be  revolutionary  and  throw 
aside  that  literary  tradition,  in  which  nothing  is 
variable,  except  moral  standards.  If  Germans  would 
write  with  the  simplicity  of  conversation.  If  Italy 
would  use  all  her  dialects. 

The  world  has  surely  grown  tired  in  its  literature. 
Was  there  ever  such  barrenness  as  in  the  recent 
war  ?  It  was  a  moment  of  supreme  emotion.  The 
countries  of  Shakespeare,  of  Tolstoi,  and  of  Voltaire 
were  in  labour.  "Tipperary"  is  brought  in  in  a 
warming-pan.  A  period  of  reconstruction  is  surely 
at  hand.  The  time  has  come  for  a  rebirth  of  litera- 
ture. It  can  be  brought  about  in  each  country  by 
casting  aside  literary  cliques  and  conventions,  and 
returning  to  the  speech  of  the  people. 
82 


IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH 
PROSE1 

It  cannot  be  doubted  that  it  is  by  the  spiritual 
possession  of  her  intellect,  rather  than  by  any  more 
material  estate,  that  Ireland  must  support  her  claim 
for  renown  before  the  court  of  humanity  ;  and  when 
she  would  put  forward  her  intellect  it  must  be  above 
all  on  that  intellect  as  crystallized  in  literature,  as 
preserved  eternally  in  the  great  works  of  her  greatest 
writers  that  she  must  base  her  demand.  Of  Irish 
literature,  however,  there  are  two  great  divisions: 
that  which  is  written  in  the  soft  and  beautiful  tongue 
of  old,  and  that  conveyed  in  the  language  most  of  us 
speak  to-day,  a  language  less  melodious,  but  one  in 
which  the  most  sublime  masterpieces  of  human 
eloquence  have  been  pronounced  by  our  fellow- 
countrymen.  Of  one  only  of  these  divisions  I 
intend  to  treat  in  this  paper.  Our  early  literature 
is  still  on  the  way  ;  it  has  not  as  yet,  like  the  litera- 
ture of  Greece  or  Germany,  attained  that  rank  of 
world  possession,  which  we  all  hope  to  see  it 
one  day  reach.  And  it  will  be  my  task  in  this  paper 
rather  to  assert  our  claim  to  those  dominions,  which 
we  already  possess  of  right,  than  to  join  in  seeking 
any  new  addition  to  them,  however  just  be  the 
annexation. 

The  invention  of  an  easy  English  style  is  con- 
temporary with  the  entry  into  literature  of  Steele 
and  Swift,  the  first  great  Irish  writers.  As  St. 
Augustine  was  still  the  African,  though  writing  in 

'  A  paper  read  at  University  College,  Stephen's  Green,  in  1899, 
83 


IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH  PROSE 

Latin,  so  the  great  Irish  prose-writers  of  the  last 
two  centuries,  the  true  inheritors  of  the  ancient  Gaelic 
genius,  when  expressing  their  thoughts,  found  in  the 
English  language  not  a  yoke  but  an  instrument. 
Too  much  of  the  time  and  resource  of  our  critics  is 
spent  in  seeking  for  Irish  poetry  in  the  English 
language,  a  quest  of  which  the  outcome  is  seldom 
satisfactory.  For  this  eagerness  to  exalt  the  most 
trifling  product  of  our  verse-makers  over  all  our 
more  solid  begettings  arises  from  a  strange  misappre- 
hension. It  is  commonly  taken  for  granted  that  our 
nation  is  still  prolific  in  poets.  The  high  standard 
of  early  Irish  poetry  is  universally  known.  That  we 
are  an  intellectual  and  highly-sensitive  race,  equally 
so.  It  is  forthwith  concluded  that  an  abundance  of 
high-class  poetry  is  being  or  has  lately  been  produced 
in  our  midst,  and  explorers  are  straightway  deputed 
to  go  in  search  of  it. 

Proceeding,  however,  upon  a  more  scientific  basis, 
if  we  look  to  actual  facts  and  results,  we  must 
necessarily  arrive  at  a  far  different  finding.  It  will 
appear  that  so  far  from  Ireland  being  in  later  times 
a  nursery  for  bards  and  sending  out  poetic  mission- 
aries to  the  rest  of  Europe,  our  poetry  has  during 
the  last  two  centuries  attained  only  a  very  moderate 
degree  of  excellence,  and  has,  in  fact,  lagged  very 
far  behind  our  prose.  Admittedly  the  best  Irish 
poet  is  either  Moore  or  Mangan.  Their  respective 
admirers  are,  indeed,  still  disputing  as  to  which  of 
them  is  no  poet.  Yet  we  need  not  hold  so  low  an 
opinion  about  either  as  the  followers  of  his  rival  do. 
We  need  not  fail  to  see  poetry  in  the  "  Meeting  of 
the  Waters,"  or  meaning  in  "  Dark  Rosaleen,"  but 
surely  we  cannot  admit  either  writer  amongst  the 
poets  of  the  first  rank,  or  agree  that  he  has  attained 
the  same  degree  of  perfection  in  his  own  art  that 
Swift  or  Bourke  did  in  theirs.  Both  poets  wrote 
pretty  verses,  but  few  would  compare  them  to  Keats 
84 


IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH  PROSE 

or  Shelly.  What,  I  wonder,  would  be  their  position 
relative  to  Shakespeare  or  Dante,  Pindar  or  Sophocles. 
Such  a  comparison  may  doubtless  seem  unfair.  But 
we  must  remember  that  from  a  like  one,  in  their  own 
class,  neither  Bourke  nor  Swift  need  shrink.  It  is 
a  moot  point  whether  the  Drapier's  Letters  or  the 
Philippics  of  Demosthenes  be  the  more  splendid 
monument  of  persuasive  oratory  ;  whether,  in 
grandeur  of  eloquence,  the  Philippics  of  Cicero  are 
superior  to  the  Revolution  Philippics  of  Bourke  : 
whether,  last  of  all,  in  Juvenal,  Dryden,  Voltaire — 
whether  in  all  the  satire  that  has  struck  terror  into 
erring  mankind  in  recorded  time  there  be  found  any 
equal  to  the  fiery  lava-stream  of  Swift. 

These  great  masters  of  prose  I  would  put  forward 
as  the  true  representatives  of  our  genius  in  so  far  as 
it  has  taken  form  in  English.1  To  Gaelic  our  best 
verse  belongs ;  to  English  our  prose.  It  is  a  well- 
observed  phenomenon  of  all  literatures  that  a  period 
of  great  poetry  is  succeeded  by  a  cycle  of  prose- 
writers.  Our  era  of  poetry  occurred  while  we 
still  spoke  our  native  language.  That  era  is  now 
unhappily  almost  past.  The  eighteenth  century 
saw  the  coming  of  our  age  of  prose,  and,  owing  to 
the  circumstances  of  the  time,  the  expression  of  our 
thoughts  and  feelings  under  this  form  clothed  itself 
in  the  English  tongue.  To  search  in  our  English 
literature  of  the  last  two  centuries  for  any  analogue 
to  the  poetic  harvest  of  earlier  ages  is  to  act  upon  a 
mistaken  principle.  The  dainty  English  versifiers 
of  recent  times  are  no  true  counterpart  to  the  mighty 
Gaelic  creators  of  the  past.  We  should  rather  look 

1  Twenty  years  after,  I  see  this  essay  full  of  the  cock-sureness 
of  a  young  fellow  in  his  twentieth  year,  insensible  to  the  poetic 
revival  around  him,  clinging  to  received  opinions  with  the  strange 
loyalty  of  youth,  failing  to  notice  that  few  or  none  of  the  writers 
mentioned  were  of  the  native  population.  The  writer  was  pro- 
bably not  then  aware  that  the  best  Gaelic  poetry  belongs  to  the 
eighteenth  century. — A. E.G. 

85 


IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH  PROSE 

for  a  development,  and  that  development  we  should 
seek  to  find  embodied  in  a  period  of  excellence  in 
the  more  sober  art ;  and  we  do  find  it  represented 
in  the  works  of  our  great  eighteenth-century  writers. 
As  Plato  and  the  orators  were  a  natural  development 
of  Aristophanes  and  the  tragedians  ;  as  Shakespeare 
and  his  compeers  found  their  successors  in  Addison, 
Richardson,  and  the  prose-verse  of  Pope,  so  Swift 
and  Goldsmith,  Steele  and  Berkeley,  Sheridan  and 
Bourke  are  the  lineal  descendants  of  our  lyrists  and 
our  epicists. 

To  offer  any  proof  of  the  greatness  of  such  writers 
would  be  a  useless  task.  All  mankind  has  already 
admitted  it.  The  attacks  we  have  to  parry,  in 
asserting  our  claim  to  them,  are  of  a  different  kind. 
The  energies  of  successive  generations  of  English 
literateurs  have  been  devoted  to  proving  they  were 
not  our  countrymen.  As  the  success  of  a  descendant 
ennobles  Chinese  ancestors,  so  the  performance 
of  any  great  achievement  by  an  Irishman  results  in 
the  transplanting  of  his  family-tree  to  the  richer 
soil.  Famous  Irishmen  become  English  after  death. 
The  finding  of  a  grandfather  in  Lincoln  follows  close 
on  the  discovery  of  a  great-aunt  in  Sussex,  and  we 
are  forthwith  informed  that  our  mighty  humorist 
was  mistaken  as  to  his  nationality,  and  his  humour 
really  an  alien  product.  The  evidence  of  character 
is  then  brought  forward  to  back  that  of  genealogy. 
It  is  pointed  out  that  Swift  and  Berkeley  were  not 
Irishmen,  because  they  were  not  formed  on  the  model 
of  Goldsmith,  and  sometimes,  with  nicer  refinement, 
that  Goldsmith  was  not  one  either  because  he  was 
not  the  counterpart  of  Bourke.  The  method  by 
which  a  standard  of  Irish  character  has  been  arrived 
at  in  our  neighbour  country  is  indeed  not  a  little 
peculiar.  No  one  ever  thinks  of  criticising  John 
Bright  or  Sir  Robert  Peel  upon  the  basis  of  their 
powers  of  beef-consumption,  or  their  resemblance  to 

86 


IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH  PROSE 

a  Punch  caricature  of  John  Bull.  But  a  corres- 
ponding method  is  commonly  applied  to  determine 
the  nationality  of  distinguished  Irishmen.  Irish 
characters  are  subjected,  not  to  analysis,  but  to  a 
strange  sort  of  synthesis.  A  composite  nature  is 
made  up  out  of  the  most  outre  characteristics  of 
Bourke,  Swift,  Goldsmith,  and  Sheridan;  an  imagi- 
nary being  as  witty  as  Swift,  as  rhetorical  as  Bourke, 
as  improvident  as  Goldsmith,  as  intemperate  as 
Steele  or  Sheridan  is  conceived  and  dubbed  the 
typical  Irishman.  It  is  then  discovered  that  each 
of  these  writers  lacked  something  of  this  strange 
ideal;  that  the  writings  of  the  Drapier  and  the 
Citizen  of  the  World  are  simple  in  style,  that  Bourke 
was  not  witty,  that  Swift  used  to  walk  to  bed 
unassisted,  and  actually  had,  when  he  died,  a  balance 
at  his  bankers.  They  are  all  straightway  set  down 
as  un-Irish,  and  sentenced  to  eternal  transportation 
across  the  Channel. 

This  strange  method  of  criticism,  a  method  we 
ourselves,  unhappily,  are  only  too  ready  to  submit  to 
and  adopt,  arises  from  the  same  fallacy  which  we 
have  had  to  consider  before,  that  of  supposing  all 
things  Irish  to  be  uniform  and  conformable  to  some 
one  pattern.  Characters,  however,  are  quite  as 
various  in  our  island  as  in  the  rest  of  the  world. 
There  are  economical  Irishmen  as  there  are  lavish 
ones.  Bourke,  the  only  eighteenth-century  writer 
with  a  pure  Irish  pedigree,  spent  his  leisure  hours 
in  vain  but  desperate  attempts  to  make  a  joke. 
This,  however,  would  not  justify  us  joining  a  dis- 
tinguished lady  writer  in  her  flight  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  native  Irish  are  not  a  witty  people,  and  what 
is  known  as  Irish  humour  is  really  a  Saxon  quality. 
We  must  be  prepared  to  meet  with  many  and  various 
Irish  natures,  and  must  not  attribute  every  deviation 
from  the  conventional  type  to  English  ancestry. 
This  plea  of  English  pedigree  is  indeed  the  customary 

87 


IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH  PROSE 

excuse  for  robbing  us  of  our  best  authors.  Walt 
Whitman  is  never  claimed  as  an  English  writer. 
Mark  Twain  preserves  his  nationality  after  death. 
But  hereditary  ownership  is  alleged  in  all  Irishmen 
whose  families  may  have  been  originally  derived 
from  England.  However  sharp  the  line  which 
divides  their  characters,  different  though  they  be 
amongst  themselves,  from  those  formed  in  the  other 
island,  no  explanation  is  ever  sought  in  the  all- 
important  factors  of  national  absorption,  and,  above 
all,  education.  The  theory  that  man  is  wholly  the 
product  of  his  time  and  circumstance  may  not  be 
altogether  true.  Yet  certainly  the  conditions  of 
bringing  up  and  early  surroundings  must  have  no 
small  share  in  the  formation  of  character  and  mental 
development.  To  call  Laurence  Sterne  an  Irishman 
is  the  mere  pedantry  of  birth  registration.  But  if  it 
was  found  that  in  Norman  times  such  families  as  the 
Fitzgeralds  became  more  Irish  than  the  Irish  them- 
selves, why  should  not  a  similar  phenomenon  explain 
the  characters  of  our  Goldsmiths  and  our  Sheridans? 
Nay,  if  a  foreign  pedigree  cannot  rob  Athens  of  her 
Pericles,  or  France  of  her  Napoleon,  why  should  our 
great  men  alone  be  the  creatures  of  genealogy  ? 

I  have  in  this  paper  joined  in  the  endeavour  to 
save  for  our  literature  those  pages  which  the  criticism 
of  a  neighbouring  country,  often  assisted  by  our  own 
partisan  complacency,  has  attempted  to  filch  from 
it.  What,  it  may  be  asked,  do  these  pages  contain  ? 
I  do  not  hesitate  about  an  answer.  Of  what  is 
good  in  English  prose  literature  they  comprise  that 
which  is  best.  At  a  period  when  English  prose  had 
reached  its  highest  level — when  it  had  freed  itself 
from  the  intricacies  and  Latinisms  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  and  had  not  as  yet  fallen  into  that  sensa- 
tionalism and  straining  after  effect  which  mar  it 
at  present — every  great  prose  writer,  save  Addison 
alone,  was  Irish.  Even  he  cannot  be  wholly  granted 
88 


IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH  PROSE 

to  England  until  we  ascertain  how  much  more  of 
what  is  conventionally  attributed  to  Addison,  must 
be  added  to  the  newly-discovered  realms  of  our 
countryman,  Dick  Steele.  Compared  with  our  great 
writers,  how  little  value  can  be  accorded  to  the 
splendid  but  ephemeral  novels  of  that  period,  the 
forgotten  and  unreadable  works  of  Smollet,  or  the 
vast  and  now  well-nigh  untrodden  wildernesses  of 
Richardson.  Nay,  from  a  literary  point  of  view,  the 
hybrid  prose  of  Gibbon  can  entitle  him  only  to  a  far 
lower  eminence. 

In  the  works  of  the  eighteenth  century  writers  five 
great  strains  appear.  Whether  in  the  writings  of 
Berkeley,  the  Plato  of  the  English  language,  the 
deepest  thought  is  to  be  found,  is  a  subject  for  the 
unparliamentary  discussions  of  philosophers.  But 
that  of  all  thinkers  he  enshrined  his  thought  product 
in  the  purest  prose,  that  his  instrument  of  expression 
is  attuned  to  the  most  delicate  harmony,  is  conceded 
even  by  his  most  bitter  opponents.  To  the  music  of 
Berkeley's  style,  the  ease  of  Steele's  tea-table  essays, 
and  the  beautiful  simplicity  of  Goldsmith,  a  sim- 
plicity that  yet  found,  perhaps,  its  sweetest  expression 
in  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  form  a  fitting  counterpart. 
In  his  embodiment  of  comedy,  the  third  great  strain, 
Goldsmith  is  also  pre-eminent.  She  Stoops  to  Conquer 
needs  no  exposition.  The  theatre  or  the  library  has 
made  it  familar  to  all  of  us.  Criticism  could  only 
repeat  those  expressions  of  admiration  that  all  man- 
kind has  already  bestowed  on  it.  Poor  Oliver's 
comedy  seems  destined  to  outlast  all  other  plays, 
except,  indeed,  the  masterpieces  of  his  countryman, 
Sheridan.  For  the  latter's  wit  appears  fated  to  out- 
live even  the  fame  of  his  oratory.  The  woes  of  the 
dowagers  of  Oude  drew  tears  from  a  crowded  House 
of  Commons,  the  humours  of  Charles  Surface  and 
Mrs.  Malaprop  seem  likely  to  divert  humanity  for 
ever.  Yet  of  the  mighty  strain  of  oratory,  Sheridan 


IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH  PROSE 

was  one  of  the  most  splendid  exponents.  With 
Bourke  and  Grattan  he  made  up  that  triad  of  inspired 
speakers  who  have  made  eloquence  peculiarly  our 
own.  To  his  fame,  Byron,  twenty  years  later,  bore 
witness.  As  to  his  companions,  it  is  no  exaggeration 
to  say  that  in  the  Revolution  drama,  Bourke,  tower- 
ing above  Mirabeau,  held  amongst  the  orators  a 
position  no  less  exalted  than  that  of  Bonaparte 
among  the  men  of  action ;  whilst  as  to  Grattan, 
though  true  oratory  is  now  but  little  in  vogue,  it  is 
safe  to  forecast  that  with  a  juster  standard  of  taste 
and  a  more  generous  appreciation  of  the  power  and 
harmony  of  voice,  he  will  once  again  be  regarded  as 
a  mighty  master  by  all  who  seek  to  be  enthralled  or 
to  enthrall  the  minds  of  men. 

Whether  Swift,  for  it  is  with  this  master  of  satire 
the  fifth  great  strain  I  would  conclude,  was  justified 
in  abandoning  his  party  and  some  of  his  principles 
in  order  to  maintain  others  which  he  considered  of 
paramount  importance,  is  a  problem  of  political 
ethics  of  which  I  cannot  hope  to  offer  any  solution 
in  this  paper. 

The  specific  gravity  of  Wood's  halfpence  is  now  a 
matter  of  little  concern.  But  the  question  of  the 
nationality  of  the  greatest  satirist  the  world  has  ever 
seen  cannot  but  be  of  supreme  interest.  We  must 
of  necessity  feel  a  certain  pride  and  affection,  mingled 
though  they  be  with  awe,  when  we  look  on  that  vast 
nature-fighting  spirit  that  once  pulsated  in  our  midst. 
Yet,  from  all  claim  to  the  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's 
Thackeray  would  debar  us.  Always  an  enemy  to  an 
Irishman,  he  was  only  too  glad  to  sever  Swift  from 
his  compatriots,  that  he  migh  vivisect  him  at  greater 
leisure  before  his  spinster-audiences  in  England.  In 
his  superficial  essay  he  pressed  home  a  certain 
harshness  that  we  find  mingled  with  the  Dean's 
character,  to  prove  it  was  un-Irish.  It  is  this  view, 
unhappily,  that  has  gained  currency  in  our  country 


IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH  PROSE 

in  later  times.  Cheap  editions  of  Thackeray  and  of 
Macaulay — the  latter  of  whom  having  no  space  for 
Swift  in  his  corridor  of  heroes  was  obliged,  accord- 
ing to  the  canons  of  his  art,  to  place  him  in  his 
gallery  of  villains — have  begotten  ideas  directly  at 
variance  with  tradition.  People  whose  grandfathers 
still  tell  pleasant  tales  of  Swift,  and  who,  had  they 
been  his  contemporaries,  would  have  thought  it  an 
honour  to  join  his  bodyguard,  and  probably  have 
doubted  whether  Mr.  Wood  or  Chief  Justice 
Whitshed  more  nearly  resembled  anti-Christ,  now 
see  in  the  great  Dean  only  a  churlish  and  un-Irish 
boor. 

Yet  this  was  not  the  man  that  Vanessa  longed 
for,  that  Stella  loved.  Though  he  was  harsh  as  the 
bard  of  old,  none  the  less  Swift's  nature  was  Irish. 
But  its  nationality  was  obscured  by  the  demoniac 
influences  that  beset  his  existence ;  it  was  an  Irish 
nature,  but  an  Irish  nature  permeated  with  vitriol. 
In  his  soul  the  beautiful  and  the  repulsive  were 
strangely  mingled.  Charitable  beyond  measure, 
loving  his  friends  and  loved  by  them,  using  his  genius 
ever  for  the  good  of  his  fellows,  the  flowers  that  he 
culled  withered  beneath  his  touch.  The  awful 
malady  of  hating  for  its  imperfections  that  which 
he  loved,  tainted  all.  His  benevolence  for  his 
fellow-man  was  unparalleled,  yet  his  fellow-men 
form  without  distinction  the  subject  of  his  direst 
satire.  The  betterment  of  his  native  country  appears 
to  have  been  the  great  object  of  his  existence,  but 
towards  that  country  he  seems  to  have  professed 
throughout  his  life  only  feelings  of  horror  and 
indignation.  Nor  can  we  doubt  that  it  was  hatred 
of  himself  and  hatred  of  common  humanity  that 
prevented  that  union  with  Stella,  which  might  have 
done  so  much  to  bring  back  his  desolate  spirit  from 
the  dry  places  into  which  it  had  wandered. 

Swift's  was  a  life  of  good  deeds  and  ghoul-faced 


IRISH  GENIUS  IN  ENGLISH  PROSE 

sorrows.  He  craved  not  our  pity,  yet  he  deserved 
it.  Still,  though  we  pity,  we  cannot  but  exult ;  for 
we  may  not  forget  that,  dreadful  as  were  the  con- 
ditions under  which  his  genius  worked,  that  reason- 
ing that  could  scatter  armies,  that  plain-spoken 
rhetoric  that  could  stir  nations  to  their  depths,  that 
wit  that  could  lash  humanity,  are  one  and  all  but 
portions  of  the  heritage  of  our  national  mind.  It  is 
to  the  product  of  that  mind  that  I  have  tried  to 
afford  definition,  and,  in  some  way,  criticism,  in  this 
paper.  Our  national  soul  has  had  two  great  embodi- 
ments. First,  the  literature  of  the  Gaelic  language, 
in  which  poetry  flourished,  with  which  it  expired, 
and  with  whose  revival  I,  for  one,  hope  it  may  again 
take  life ;  secondly,  the  splendid  works  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  a  true  embodiment  of  our 
national  genius,  that,  taking  fresh  life  under  new 
forms,  as  it  had  once  been  pre-eminent  in  poetry, 
so  now  established  an  empire  over  prose.  Over- 
shadowing the  reflected  efforts  of  contemporary 
poets,  Irish  writers,  though  of  English  race,  the 
famous  authors  inspired  by  it,  wits,  orators,  essayists, 
philosophers,  took  captive  the  conquering  English 
tongue,  and  moulded  in  it  that  vast  and  imperishable 
monument  that  will  preserve  the  memory  of  our  race, 
when,  to  the  dead  century,  be  added  yet  another,  and 
yet  to  that  another  and  another. 


92 


VOTES  FOR  CHILDREN 

Like  ping-pong  and  roller-skating,  the  art  and 
pastime  of  voting  is  for  the  moment  somewhat  out  of 
vogue.  At  least  it  is  so  in  Europe.  Nevertheless, 
this  has  not  prevented  the  inauguration  of  at  least 
one  suffrage  movement.  I  take  courage  to  suggest 
another.  After  all,  at  the  present  time  one  can  be  a 
propagandist  with  less  danger  to  life  and  limb  than 
usual,  since  no  one  really  cares  what  your  views  are, 
on  any  subject  save  the  one.  The  absence  of  free 
institutions  is  moreover,  in  some  respects,  rather  a 
help  to  the  spread  of  novel  opinions,  an  absolute 
government  having,  as  has  often  been  remarked,  by 
no  means  the  same  facilities  for  hunting  down  and 
slaying  new  ideas  that  a  well-established  democracy 
possesses.  The  Renaissance  and  the  French  Revolu- 
tion were  each  of  them  the  product  of  unfree 
institutions.  Women's  claim  to  the  suffrage  and  the 
further  claim  I  now  venture  to  put  forward  are  but 
carrying  the  second  of  these  movements  to  its  logical 
conclusion. 

It  is  a  trite  saying  that  the  three  stages  of  any 
reform  movement  are  ridicule,  indignation,  and 
acquiescence.  Self-government  is  (outside  Ulster) 
in  the  third  stage;  women's  suffrage  was  recently  in 
the  second  ;  we  can  all  remember  when  it  was  in  the 
first.  The  proposals  here  put  forward  have  yet  to 
reach  even  the  first  stage  of  attentive  ridicule.  But 
let  me  say  that,  though  it  may  perhaps  have  the  good 
fortune  to  excite  wide-spread  derision,  this  article  is 
not  intended  to  be  humorous.  It  is  not,  for  instance, 
written  as  a  satire  upon  the  movement  for  women's 

93 


VOTES  FOR  CHILDREN 

suffrage,  as  might  readily  be  suspected.  On  the 
contrary,  the  suggestions  it  contains  are  put  forward 
as  a  serious  remedy  for  a  great  body  of  admitted 
social  evil. 

Modern  social  enquiry  seems  to  be  steadily  reaching 
the  conclusion  that  the  human  race  is  in  large  part 
ruined  in  its  'teens.  Physically,  no  doubt,  civilized 
humanity  is  corrupted  at  a  still  earlier  age  by  under- 
feeding, bad  housing,  and  want  of  medical  attendance ; 
and  the  community  realizing  this  has  entered  on  a 
policy  (limited  indeed)  of  housing  the  poor,  free 
meals,  and  medical  inspection  for  school  children. 
(By  the  way,  speaking  of  free  meals,  I  wish  some 
economist  with  classical  qualifications  would  make 
an  independent  investigation  into  the  subject  ofpanem 
et  circenses,  and  ascertain  whether  this  state  policy  of 
a  great  empire  was  really  the  evil  thing  that  middle- 
class  authorities  have  so  often  represented  it  to  be.) 
The  physical  ruin  of  the  poor  comes  early;  their 
moral  and  intellectual  degeneration  comes  in  the 
second  decade  of  life.  I  need  not  enlarge  on  such 
topics  as  child-labour,  the  sudden  stoppage  of  educa- 
tion, the  want  of  technical  training  and  "blind-alley 
occupations,"  nor  yet  on  these  worse  snares  and  evils 
which  a  modern  city  provides  in  unchecked  profusion 
for  the  young.  The  former  class  of  evils  has  been 
pointed  out  by  all  recent  social  investigators.  It 
was  the  subject  of  a  very  able  lecture  by  Professor 
Corcoran  some  time  ago  in  which  he  advocated  cer- 
tain palliatives,  such  as  extension  classes.  The  latter 
kind  of  evils  fall  under  that  axiom  of  modern  state- 
craft, that  "the  Devil  has  his  rights  and  they  are  not 
lightly  to  be  interfered  with."  Humanity  between 
the  ages  of  twelve  and  twenty  is  surely  the  site  of  his 
most  extensive  possessions. 

The  evils  themselves  are  admitted.  How  are  they 
to  be  dealt  with?  The  remedy  for  social  evils  is 
commonly  not  sociological.  Of  course  it  is  simple 

94 


VOTES  FOR  CHILDREN 

enough  to  combat  evil;  you  have  only  to  do  good. 
But  doing  good,  in  a  public  way,  is  about  the  hardest 
thing  in  the  world.  It  is  commonly  the  most 
unpopular.  For  one  thing,  you  trench  on  the  vested 
rights  alluded  to  in  the  last  paragraph.  One  must 
look  to  politics  for  the  answer  to  the  problems  of 
sociology.  The  evils  of  the  Irish  land  system  for 
instance  were  known  for  more  than  a  century.  Royal 
Commissions  had  discovered  them.  Philanthropists 
had  wept  over  them.  Economists  had  set  them  forth 
in  treatises.  It  required  Michael  Davitt  and  the 
Land  League  to  put  an  end  to  them.  The  social 
sciences  seldom  go  beyond  a  treatment  of  symptoms. 
You  must  employ  the  surgery  of  the  politician  to 
effect  a  radical  cure. 

There  is  one  other  proposition  which  has  come  to 
be  looked  upon  as  an  axiom  of  democracy,  that 
nobody  can  look  after  a  man's  interest  as  well  as  the 
man  himself.  Of  course  there  are  always  other 
people  ready  to  take  charge  of  them.  Before  1793, 
while  Catholics  still  lacked  the  franchise,  there  were 
not  a  few  benevolent  Protestants  ready  to  promote 
and  foster  their  interests  in  every  way,  to  be  more 
Catholic  than  the  Catholics  themselves.  Wolfe  Tone 
for  one  was  wholly  disinterested.  Still  the  Catholics 
preferred  to  do  the  voting  themselves ;  they  felt  they 
could  safeguard  Catholic  interests  better  than  even 
their  most  eager  well-wishers.  And  this  has  been 
the  view  of  all  disfranchised  classes,  a  view  com- 
monly borne  out  in  the  result.  It  is  of  course  one 
of  the  strongest  grounds  upon  which  women's  claim 
to  the  suffrage  was  usually  based. 

Now,  as  there  were  Protestants  who  looked  after 
Catholic  interests  before  1793,  as  there  are  Members 
of  Parliament  at  present  who  look  after  the  interests 
of  women,  so  there  are  by  no  means  wanting  philan- 
thropists who  take  an  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the 
young,  men  who  devote  themselves  to  such  questions 

95 


VOTES  FOR  CHILDREN 

as  "blind-alley  occupations"  or  "child-labour,"  and 
honestly  seek  a  remedy  for  them.  There  are  friends 
of  youth,  just  as  there  are  friends  of  Ireland,  and 
friends  of  labour.  But  my  point  is  that  the  interest 
of  such  persons  in  these  questions  and  their  influence 
for  good  in  solving  them  is  much  less  than  the 
interest  and  influence  of  the  classes  affected  would 
be  if  they  were  themselves  allowed  a  voice  in  the 
matter.  Philanthropy  is  a  weak  battle-cry  as  com- 
pared with  self-interest.  And  though  any  one 
individual  may  be  neglectful  of  his  own  interests,  a 
class  hardly  ever  is.  Give  boys  the  vote,  and  they 
will  of  a  surety  use  it,  like  other  classes,  to  promote 
the  interests  of  their  kind,  to  solve  the  problems  of 
boyhood,  to  punish  the  outrages  that  are  perpetrated 
on  their  age. 

The  wrongs  inflicted  by  adults  upon  voteless 
adolescents  are  very  considerable,  and  yet  like  most 
such  things  readily  laughed  away.  Laughter  is  the 
best  defence  for  the  indefensible.  Some  of  them, 
such  as  the  problems  of  boy-labour,  have  already 
been  alluded  to.  The  system  which  to  suit  the  con- 
venience of  their  elders  turns  the  city  street  into  an 
occasion  of  sin,  is  an  evil  scarcely  less  crying,  though 
perhaps  less  perceived.  But  even  in  small  matters 
it  is  remarkable  how  the  adult  constantly  sacrifices 
the  interest  of  the  young  to  his  own  most  trifling 
convenience.  The  English  monetary  system  and 
system  of  spelling  are  two  of  the  most  glaring 
examples.  Here  the  interest  of  the  young  is  in 
direct  conflict  with  the  inertia  of  the  adult,  and  the 
adult  does  not  hesitate  to  inflict  years  of  useless 
drudgery  upon  the  school-boy  or  school-girl  in  order 
to  avoid  the  three  or  four  weeks  of  discomfort  that 
would  be  caused  by  the  change  to  a  more  rational 
system.  Here  again  laughter  is  the  defence. 
American  adults  laughed  as  loudly  at  Roosevelt's 
spelling  changes  as  English  adults  would  laugh  at  a 
96 


VOTES  FOR  CHILDREN 

proposal  to  introduce  dollars  and  cents  as  a  basis  of 
computation. 

The  young,  too,  have  certain  of  the  other  marks 
of  a  servile  class.  With  procurers  and  garrotters 
they  remain  the  only  sections  of  the  community  still 
liable  to  torture — by  stripes.  Laughter  again  tends 
to  be  the  defence.  And  the  jokes  about  flogging 
boys  bear  a  close  family  resemblance  to  the  jokes 
about  flogging  adult  slaves,  with  which  readers  of 
Terence  and  Plautus  are  familiar.  It  is  only  in 
comparatively  recent  times  that  the  same  treatment 
has  come  to  be  looked  upon  as  no  longer  suitable 
for  women.  Some  such  phrase  as  "  it  is  good  for 
them,"  or  perhaps  even  "  they  like  it,"  is  in  such 
matters  usually  thought  a  sufficient  justification. 
That  for  which  a  class  beyond  all  else  needs  the 
vote,  is  to  protect  itself  from  degradation. 

Of  course  it  will  be  said  that  if  the  young  had  the 
vote,  they  would  not  know  how  to  use  it,  that  school- 
boys are  not  the  persons  most  fit  to  decide  questions 
of  foreign  policy,  for  instance.  Are  agricultural 
labourers  ?  Youths  under  twenty-one  have  those 
qualities  which  are  perhaps  most  lacking  in  modern 
statecraft,  honesty  and  enthusiasm.  They  would 
form  an  uncorrupt  element  in  every  electorate. 
Honesty — public  honesty — is  the  quality  of  the 
'teens  and  the  early  twenties.  It  is  all  but  gone  by 
the  thirties,  surviving  later  perhaps  in  a  few  chosen 
individuals,  in  men  like  Davitt,  for  instance,  who 
have  had  their  principles  preserved  in  the  antiseptic 
atmosphere  of  a  British  gaol. 

Nor  have  boys  shown  themselves  in  anyway  lacking 
in  those  other  qualities  that  make  the  good  citizen. 
In  Ireland  at  least,  taking  them  one  with  another, 
they  certainly  work  harder  than  adults,  and  their 
work  is  more  disinterested.  They  have  a  far  keener 
desire  for  intellectual  improvement,  and  are  more 
interested  in  serious  questions.  They  read  serious 

H  97 


VOTES  FOR  CHILDREN 

books  for  pleasure.  Not  one  adult  in  a  hundred  does. 
Until  contaminated  by  some  of  the  sources  of  cor- 
ruption already  alluded  to  they  are  more  religious 
and  much  less  vicious  than  adults.  In  our  time,  in 
such  bodies  as  the  boy-scouts,  they  have  shown  a 
remarkable  capacity  for  patriotism  and  organization. 
Irish  boy-scouts  have  at  least  one  very  striking 
achievement  to  their  credit  in  quite  recent  times. 
The  "military"  argument  commonly  urged  against 
the  female  vote  cannot  be  used  in  this  case.  Whilst 
on  the  other  hand  a  well-known  argument  for 
women's  suffrage,  that  the  highest  type  of  woman  is 
immeasurably  superior  to  the  lowest  type  of  male 
voter,  applies  with  even  increased  force  in  the  case 
of  boys.  A  well-educated  and  clever  boy  has  faculties 
immensely  superior  to  those  of  the  lowest  type  of 
adult  voter.  Yet  even  were  this  not  the  case,  the 
objection  would  be  irrelevant.  It  is  not  because  of 
his  capabilities  as  a  governor,  but  because  of  his 
rights  as  one  of  the  governed,  that  modern  democracy 
gives  an  individual  the  vote. 

Finally,  it  may  be  asked,  what  is  the  concrete 
proposition?  Are  voters  in  arms  to  be  carried  to  the 
poll  by  their  nurses,  for  instance  ?  This  is  the 
reductio  ad  absurdtun  of  the  proposal.  The  proposi- 
tions of  practical  politics  always  admit  of  a  reductio 
ad  absurdum ;  it  in  no  way  impairs  their  validity. 
There  is  a  limit.  But  one  can  be  damned  at  seven. 
I  propose  to  give  the  vote  at  twelve,  or  at  all  events, 
at  fourteen,  when  the  individual  incurs  full  criminal 
responsibility,  and  a  large  degree  of  civil  responsibility 
for  his  acts.  In  the  Roman  empire  the  privilege  of 
citizenship  wras  acquired  about  this  age.  In  other 
words,  the  interests  of  the  school  population,  so 
much  talked  about,  so  little  really  attended  to,  would 
receive  a  real  representation  in  the  commonwealth. 
Educational  questions  would  at  last  be  looked  at  from 
the  point  of  view  of  those  who  are  to  be  educated, 
98 


VOTES  FOR  CHILDREN 

instead  of  from  everyother  point  of  view  under  heaven. 
Nor  would  this  point  of  view  resolve  itself  into  a  mere 
demand  for  idleness,  as  the  cynic  may  suggest.  Boys 
as  a  class  are  no  more  fools  than  anyone  else,  in  fact 
rather  less  so.  It  might,  however,  easily  resolve 
itself  into  a  demand  that  learning  should  be  associated 
with  humanity. 

It  remains  to  deal  with  a  few  rather  obvious  objec- 
tions. "They  have  shown  no  desire  for  the  vote, 
they  don't  want  it."  As  this  objection  is  a  standard 
one  against  all  franchise  and  emancipation  movements 
whatever,  I  need  only  refer  the  objector  to  the  well- 
known  answers,  which  are  now  almost  as  definitely 
in  stereotype  as  the  objection.  "They  would  not  use 
it  if  they  got  it,"  "  it  would  bring  ruin  and  ridicule 
on  the  commonwealth."  "  It  is  too  ridiculous  to  be 
seriously  discussed."  To  these  the  same  remark 
applies.  Finally,  the  subtle  humorist,  if  he  be  of  a 
logical  turn  of  mind,  can  urge  something  really 
original.  "  Why  stop  short  in  your  democracy  ? 
Why  not  give  votes  to  the  other  excluded  classes, 
criminals  and  lunatics?  "  Well,  as  for  lunatics,  any 
politician  must  admit,  nay  he  has  perpetually  stated, 
that  they  are  fully  represented — on  the  other  side. 
Whilst  as  for  criminals,  many  of  them  in  fact  have 
the  vote;  but  in  any  event  criminals  belong  com- 
monly not  so  much  to  the  classes  that  vote,  as  to  the 
class  that  is  voted  for.  To  take  the  most  famous 
instance,  the  hero  of  Victor  Hugo's  Story  of  a  Crime 
received  the  almost  unanimous  suffrages  of  a  people. 

I  cannot,  of  course,  hope  for  an  immediate  accept- 
ance of  these  proposals.  I  shall  be  satisfied  if  I  awake 
some  first  faint  stirring  in  the  political  conscience 
of  the  community,  even  though  that  stirring  should 
have  its  beginning  in  the  risible  faculty. 


99 


THE   PSEUDO-SCIENCE   OF 
CLASSICS 

The  subject  of  Classics  is  now,  roughly  speaking, 
in  the  same  position  as  Religion  was  in  the  reigns  of 
Louis  XV  and  Louis  XVI.  It  is  still  respectable; 
it  has  its  paid  professors,  who  are  people  of  conse- 
quence, if  not  of  influence ;  a  limited  amount  of  it 
(every  day  becoming  less)  is  still  supported  by  a 
severe  legal  compulsion ;  but  it  is  thoroughly  hated 
by  everybody ;  no  one  has  the  courage  to  say  a  good 
word  for  it  in  private. 

There  was  a  time  when  public  men  embellished 
their  speeches — in  those  days  people  used  to  read 
them — with  quotations  instead  of  epigrams.  Virgil 
and  Cicero  enjoyed  almost  the  respect  now  given  to 
the  latest  Russian  novelist.  And  copies  of  Horace 
were  then  as  common  as  those  of  Tagore  or 
Baudelaire  in  our  time.  Nowadays,  in  Ireland  at 
any  rate,  we  should  almost  prefer  a  biblical  to  a 
classical  quotation  ;  and  that  is  saying  a  great  deal. 
In  England  the  feeling  about  the  classics  seems  to 
be  very  much  the  same.  The  aristocracy  who,  from 
reasons  of  policy  (is  not  classics  still  the  mark  of  a 
gentleman  and  even  a  New  Zealand  professor  of 
Greek  still  respectable  ?)  have  hitherto  given  classics 
a  formal  support,  must  one  of  these  days  proclaim 
their  adhession  to  the  general  dislike.  At  best,  in 
the  United  States  of  America,  that  home  of  Demo- 
cracy and  other  lost  causes,  ever  respectful  of 
tradition,  something  of  the  old  honour  may  continue, 
and  the  hungry  Greekling  may  find  refuge  in  Harvard 
100 


THE  PSEUDO-SCIENCE  OF  CLASSICS 

or  Yale  or  Washington,  much  as  he  did  in  Ireland 
in  the  dark  ages. 

I  have  compared  the  contempt  for  classics  to  the 
contempt  for  religion  in  the  eighteenth  century.  It 
is  interesting  to  remark  that  that  contempt  proved 
wholly  mistaken.  No  men  ever  had  had  their 
prognostications  more  falsified  in  the  result  than 
the  savants  who  in  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century  predicted  the  speedy  disappearance  of 
religion.  The  exact  contrary  occurred;  as  I  write 
men  are  marching  to  their  death  under  religious 
banners  in  every  country  in  Europe.  A  later  age 
discovered  that  it  was  the  abbe  who  was  contemptible, 
not  the  Church ;  and  it  was  only  because  men 
had  ceased  to  live  their  religion,  that  religion 
seemed  a  dead  thing.  And  if  one  may  compare 
a  purely  secular  study  one  might  say  that  the 
study  of  classics  in  our  time  is  in  the  same  case. 
It  has  been  stifled  by  a  false  science.  But  it  must 
one  day  revive  ;  for  the  thing  itself  is  deep  down  in 
the  heart  of  man. 

I  have  no  statistics  by  me.  I  daresay  there  are 
more  editions  and  more  accurate  editions  of  the 
classics  produced  in  our  time  than  in  any  previous 
period.  (There  were  probably  more  churches  and 
much  better  ones  in  France  in  the  time  of  Louis  XV 
than  in  the  time  of  St.  Louis.)  But  the  thing  itself 
is  slipping  from  our  grasp.  Classical  study  has  all 
but  ceased  to  be  an  integral  part  of  modern  life. 
Part  of  this  is  no  doubt  the  fault  of  our  age.  A 
generation  that  can  scarce  bear  the  intellectual  strain 
of  reading  a  halfpenny  newspaper  and  prefers  to 
acquire  knowledge  of  current  events  from  the 
"  movies,"  naturally  sits  down  with  no  small  reluct- 
ance to  unravel  a  speech  of  Thucydides  or  a  chorus 
of  ^Eschylus — ^ya  (3i/3Xtov  fjifya  KO-KOV,  said  the  men 
of  Alexandria.  In  our  time  we  are  well  on  the  way 
to  drop  the  first  word  of  the  quotation  and  affirm 
101 


THE  PSEUDO-SCIENCE  OF  CLASSICS 

quite  simply  (or  at  least  we  should  make  the  affirma- 
tion, if  a  knowledge  of  Greek  still  persisted),  (3i/3\toi> 
fjxya  KdKov.  When  men  are  in  this  frame  of  mind 
the  Latin  and  Greek  classics  have  but  a  poor  chance. 
Yet,  granted  that  a  gradual  weakening  of  intellectual 
fibre,  a  steady  growth  of  mental  lassitude  has  been 
a  marked  feature  of  the  last  thirty  years,  this  cannot 
of  itself  account  for  the  deep  unpopularity  of 
classical  study  or,  rather,  classical  knowledge.  Nor 
is  the  increased  study  of  German  or  the  increased 
respect  for  French  literature,  nor  even  the  study  of 
translations  of  other  modern  literatures  the  real 
explanation.  The  study  of  classics  could  not  have 
lost  its  hold,  as  it  has  done,  classical  knowledge 
could  not  have  fallen  into  so  deep  a  contempt  if  none 
but  external  causes  were  at  work.  It  has,  in  large 
part,  been  destroyed  from  within.  The  classical 
professor  has  ruined  the  classics. 

It  is  a  fairly  well-observed  phenomenon  that,  if 
any  system  or  organization  finds  itself  in  a  stress  of 
competition  with  an  opposition  system,  it  tends  to 
abandon  its  characteristic  qualities,  and  attempt  to 
assimilate  these  of  its  victorious  enemy,  often  with 
the  most  incongruous  and  disastrous  results.  This 
is  what  has  happened  to  classics.  .For  centuries  the 
classical  authors  had  held  the  leading  place  in  that 
body  of  thought,  supremely  true  in  my  view,  which 
Pope  summed  up  in  the  formula,  "  the  proper  study 
of  mankind  is  man."  The  tale  of  Dido's  love,  the 
subtle  analysis  of  her  psychology,  or  (again)  such  a 
passage  as  the  following  : 

iv  <J  r\a.fi(>)v  oS  ,  OVK-  eyw  /toi/os, 
irnvrodfv  ^Sopetos  ws  ns 

O.KTO.      KV/JMTOTrXl 

(US  KCU  TOV&€  KO.T     UKptt9 

Sfival  Kv/Aaroayets 
Ural  K\ovfov<riv  del 
102 


THE  PSEUDO-SCIENCE  OF  CLASSICS 

at  /-lev  O.TT    aeAtou  Svcr^iav, 
at  8    ayareAAovTO?, 
at  8    ava  //.ecrcrav  O.KTLV  , 
ai  8    evvvxiav  aVb  'Ptirav 

were  rightly  looked  upon  as  supreme,  as  the  noblest 
efforts  to  interpret  man  to  man. 

But  a  great  change  came  over  thought  in  the  last 
century.  I  refer  not  so  much  to  that  poetic  revolu- 
tion which,  under  pantheistic  influence,  came  to  look 
upon  the  scenery  in  life's  drama  as  more  important 
than  the  actors,  which  would,  in  the  passage  just 
quoted,  have  more  feeling  for  the  sorrows  of  the 
beach  than  of  CEdipus.  This  was,  of  course,  a 
reaction  against  classic  ideas,  in  part  no  doubt  a 
needed  reaction.  It  was,  we  must  remember,  in  some 
degree  inspired  by  Gaelic  literature.  But  it  is  not 
this  that  has  led  to  the  ruin  of  classical  study. 

Another  movement  of  a  very  different  kind  arose 
about  the  same  time  as  the  Romantic  movement. 
In  one  sense  it  was  the  very  opposite  of  the  Romantic. 
The  great  development  of  scientific  research  and 
adventure  led  to  the  most  amazing  results  in  the  last 
century.  The  interest  in  scientific  pursuits  naturally 
became  wide-spread  and  intense.  Science,  on  its 
two  sides  of  exuberant  imagination  and  painstaking 
accumulation  of  exact  knowledge,  obtained  extra- 
ordinary respect  and  universal  popularity,  even  with 
those  who  had  neither  imagination  nor  capacity  for 
ascertaining  fact.  On  both  sides  it  was  inhuman, 
even  anti-human,  and  in  so  far  it  was  profoundly 
anti-classical. 

Nineteenth  century  human  beings  were  as.sailed 
not  by  imaginary  oYat,  but  by  still  more  imaginary 
ether-waves.  Both  afforded  an  adequate  explanation 
of  observed  phenomena.  The  latter,  however,  differed 
from  the  former  in  being  capable  of  exact  measure- 
ment ;  they  were  equally  unreal.  They  were  ever  so 
103 


THE  PSEUDO-SCIENCE  OF  CLASSICS 

much  less  human.  And  this  cult  of  the  inhuman 
came  to  pervade  the  whole  life  of  the  century,  its 
morality,  its  economy,  even  its  politics.  People 
wanted  to  measure  everything,  even  the  incommen- 
surable, to  weigh  the  imponderable.  It  is  scarcely 
an  exaggeration  to  say  that  in  the  nineteenth  century 
mathematics  became  the  enemy  of  life ;  and  it  was 
in  large  part  a  mathematics  of  imaginary  quantities, 
"the  economic  man"  and  the  rest.  All  this  was,  of 
course,  a  deadly  assault  upon  the  position  of  classics 
and  its  allies.  For  they  dealt  with  that  by  no  means 
imaginary  quantity,  the  human  being,  with  his  joys 
and  his  sorrows,  his  individual  soul.  You  could  not 
fit  him  into  an  equation  or  test  him  effectively  by  an 
experiment.  Nineteenth  century  science  had  little 
in  common  with  those  things  for  which  the  classics 
stood.  The  jar  was  inevitable. 

But  how  did  the  classicists  meet  the  attack  ?  They 
were  guilty  of  an  amazing  folly.  They  abandoned 
the  strongest  position  in  the  world,  the  heart  of  man. 
They  set  out  to  become  scientists  themselves.  Never 
was  there  a  sorrier  spectacle.  Classical  learning  had 
certain  essential  facts,  of  grammar,  of  textual  varia- 
tion, of  social  conditions  associated  with  it.  And 
men  had  at  all  times  been  employed  to  serve  up  texts, 
as  men  (or  women)  are  employed  to  cook  dinners. 
Bentley,  for  instance,  had  gained  distinction  in  this 
art  a  century  earlier,  though  his  contemporaries,  who 
had  an  unquestioning  respect  for  the  classics,  rightly 
thought  more  of  Addison,  the  poet.  For  the  future 
this  secondary  aspect  of  classical  learning  was  to  be 
developed  almost  to  the  exclusion  of  everything  else. 
Men  were  encouraged  to  devote  themselves  to  the 
cooking  rather  than  the  eating.  The  various  sub- 
sidiary elements  in  classical  learning  were  worked 
up  into  a  science ;  the  good  classical  student  was 
encouraged  to  divide  his  time  between  observing 
subjunctives  and  imagining  emendations.  Even  men 
104 


THE  PSEUDO-SCIENCE  OF  CLASSICS 

with  fine  qualities  of  taste,  discrimination  and  human 
feeling  like  Jebb  and  Tyrrell  had  to  bend  to  the 
yoke  of  pseudo-science,  though  as  scientists  they 
were  as  much  out  of  place  as  Lucretius  himself. 
The  inevitable  result  followed ;  anyone  can  see  it 
with  his  own  eyes.  Each  day  and  each  week  the 
hatred  of  classics,  apostate  classics,  classics  false 
to  its  own  first  principle,  the  pseudo-science  of 
classics,  grew  more  intense,  more  wide-spread.  It 
extended  to  every  class  ;  the  classical  student  him- 
self came  to  hate  his  gain-study  ;  till  to-day  the  great 
bulk  of  men  view  classics,  classical  authors,  classical 
teachers  and  classical  quotations  with  almost  a 
passionate  dislike.  The  old  respect  has  wholly 
disappeared.  The  anti-clericalism  of  a  French 
Freemason  is  scarcely  as  bitter  as  the  anti-classicism 
of  the  average  citizen.  And  yet  classical  scholars 
do  not  realize  that  all  this  is  their  own  handiwork. 
They  have  ruined  their  study  because  they  have 
betrayed  it. 

In  very  recent  times  an  effort  is  being  made  to 
popularize  classical  studies,  by  calling  in  the  aid 
of  classical  archaeology,  a  useful  and  valuable 
science  in  itself,  and  especially  useful  in  illustrating 
many  points  of  classical  learning.  But  this  is  to 
give  water  to  the  dropsical.  What  is  needed  for 
classics  is  not  a  new  addition  of  science,  the  very 
evil  from  which  it  is  suffering  and  almost  expiring, 
but  rather  that  it  should  shake  itself  free  from  science 
once  for  all  and  resume  its  place  as  a  study  and 
criticism  of  life.  If  the  classical  authors  are  ever  to 
live  again,  in  public  esteem,  it  must  be  by  restoring 
them  to  their  position  as  living  literature,  and  no 
longer  leaving  them  as  corpses  on  the  dissecting- 
table  of  the  learned.  Dead  immortal  Caesar  has 
become  a  "  subject." 


105 


THE  SNOBBERY   OF  QUINTUS 
HORATIUS  FLACCUS 

A  snob,  says  William  Makepeace  Thackeray,  "  is 
one  who  meanly  admires  mean  things."1  He 
should  have  known,  for  it  is  admitted  that  William 
Makepeace  Thackeray  was  a  snob  himself.  It  is 
proposed  to  show  that  Quintus  Horatius  Flaccus, 
better  known  as  Horace,  belonged  to  the  same 
numerous  and  respectable  class  of  the  community. 
No  doubt  he  had  not  always  been  so.  There  was 
once  a  nobler  Horace  who  has  not  come  down  to  us, 
who  might  perhaps  have  enjoyed  a  less  popularity  if 
he  had.  Young  Quintus  had  of  course  been  brought 
up  upon  the  most  approved  principles  of  snobbery 
by  his  really  excellent  father,  who  had  been  a  slave. 
Excellent  fathers  have  that  way.  He  had  been 
thoroughly  instructed  in  platitudinous  perfections 
much  after  the  manner  of  Polonius'  advice  to  his  son. 
His  father,  admirable  man,  bade  him  emulate  the 
virtues  of  a  Special  Juror.  But  to  complete  his  son's 
education  he  was  obliged  to  send  him  to  the  Uni- 
versity or  its  then  equivalent,  Athens.  Universities 
are  strange  places ;  they  often  make  you  pay  dearly 
for  the  education  and  refinement  they  impart,  by 
teaching  you  ideals,  very  dangerous  things.  And 
Quintus  Horatius  Flaccus,  the  clever  son  of  the 
ex-slave,  imbibed  ideals. 

Brutus  was  then  making  the  last  stand  for  human 
liberty,  or  at  least  constitutional  government,  that 
was  to  be  made  for  many  centuries.  The  republican 

1  Book  of  Snobs,  cap.  2,  p.  9. 

106 


THE  SNOBBERY  OF  QUINTUS 

effort  was  to  fail  and  the  dull  pall  of  the  Roman 
Empire  was  to  sink  upon  humanity,  till  at  last  the 
Christian  religion  should  bring  back  colour  to  life. 
In  this  last  glorious  stand  of  Brutus  and  the  narrow 
but  splendid  patriots  of  the  time  the  young  student 
took  his  part.  This  can  scarcely  have  been  what 
his  careful  father  had  looked  for  from  all  his  training. 
Education  has  strange  results.  It  may  have  been 
some  compensation  that  young  Quintus — the  freed- 
man's  son — was  sometimes  to  be  found  leading  a 
Roman  legion.  The  young  man  himself  was  tre- 
mendously proud  of  it.  Early  education  also  counts 
for  something.  I  am  sure  young  Horace  dealt  with 
the  very  best  military  tailors  of  the  period.  But 
unfortunately  the  great  adventure  failed.  Brutus 
was  beaten.  And  few  positions  are  less  enviable  than 
that  of  the  officer  of  a  defeated  army. 

Quintus  Horatius  Flaccus,  late  a  commissioned 
officer  of  the  Roman  Army,  now  no  one  at  all,  was 
in  sorry  case.  He  went  in  for  a  position  in  the  lower 
ranks  of  the  Civil  Service,  and  was  glad  to  get  it 
at  that.  The  common  idea  is  that  Horace  was 
rescued  from  this  pass  by  the  literary  taste  of  the 
new  Augustan  age.  This,  I  venture  to  suggest,  is 
a  mistake.  Maecenas'  set  was  probably  about  as 
literary  as  that  of  a  modern  prime  minister.  A  real 
poet,  such  as  Catullus,  was  wholly  alien  to  them. 
Horace  has  only  vile  abuse  for  him.1  One  might 
conjecture  that  the  descendant  of  the  rather  mythical 
Cilnii,  who  were  "  regibus"  a  very  long  time  ago, 
was  out  of  touch  with  the  best  Roman  culture.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  the  extremely  rowdy  and  ill-mannered 
set  whom  the  tyrant's  minister  had  gathered  round 
him—ista  parisitica  domus — required  something  to 

1  quos  neque  pulcher 

Hermogenes  umquam  legit  neque  simius  iste. 
Nil  praeter  Calvum  et  doctus  cantare  Catullum. 

Horace,  Satires,  Bk.  1.  x,  19. 

107 


THE  SNOBBERY  OF  QUINTUS 

fill  up  their  intervals  of  sobriety,  at  least  when  it  was 
too  dark  to  play  the  ball  game,  something  that  should 
occupy  the  mind  without  straining  it — just  like  a 
modern  revue  or  daily  paper.  Horace's  sennones 
and  Virgil's  early  poems  exactly  met  this  need. 
Vulgar  without  being  witty,  you  could  enjoy  them 
between  drinks ;  and  Maecenas,  himself  a  drunken 
and  effeminate  fop,1  who  was  a  patron  of  the  arts 
much  after  the  manner  of  Lord  Steyne,  gave  these 
two  writers  a  place  among  his  blackguards,  buffoons 
and  sycophants.  To  be  more  precise,  one  of  them 
introduced  the  other.  No  doubt  they  belonged  to 
the  opposite  political  party.  Both  had  suffered  for 
their  opinions.  But  who  would  nowadays  trouble 
about  the  politics  of  the  author  of  a  musical  comedy, 
and  Horace  at  any  rate  was  ready  to  submit  to  the 
indignity  of  representing  himself  as  having  been  a 
coward  during  his  military  career,2  though  he  had 
probably  been  a  capable  officer.  If  you  think 
Juvenal,3  Suetonius,4  or  other  writers  are  unfair  to 
the  Maecenas  set,  read  the  "Supper  of  Nasidienus," 
as  written  by  Horace.5  As  a  record  of  unmitigated 
blackguardism  and  vulgarity,  there  are  few  things 
to  equal  it  in  literature.  Intended  to  be  an  attack 
on  Maecenas'  host,  Nasidienus,  though  it  is  put  in 
another's  mouth,  it  lives  as  a  terrible  though  uncon- 
scious satire  on  Maecenas,  on  the  man  who  wrote  it, 
and  on  the  racketty  crew  whose  taste  it  was  written 
to  suit.  Horace's  other  writings  of  the  period  are 
quite  of  a  piece  with  this — the  buffooneries  of  the 
Brindisi  journey,  his  rudeness  on  the  Sacred  Way, 
his  gross  cruelty  towards  Catullus,  and  in  fact  every- 
one who  was  not  of  the  Maecenas  set. 

1  See  the  references  collected  in  Mayor's  well-known   note  on 
Juvenal,  I,  66. 

2"  .  .  .  relicta  now  bene parmula." — Horace,  Odes,  II,  7,  10. 

*  See  Satires,  I,  66;  XII.  37. 

4  See  Mayor's  note  above  referred  to. 

6  Horace,  Satires,  Bk.  II,  8. 

108 


THE  SNOBBERY  OF  QUINTUS 

It  is  scarcely  to  be  set  down  as  blame  to  Horace 
that  he  was  proud  of  his  intimacy  or  even  of  his 
influence  with  Augustus'  minister.  Horace  was,  of 
course,  careful  to  assert  that  he  did  not  use  this 
influence,1  that  he  took  no  interest  in  practical 
matters,  and  was  in  fact  wholly  immersed  in  the 
delights  of  friendship  from  man  to  man.  But  he 
was  not  sorry  to  have  it  thought  that  a  word  from 
him  (Horace)  would  set  matters  right.2  Horace 
indeed  so  often  proclaims  the  disinterested  nature  of 
his  relations  with  his  patron  that  one  grows  suspicious. 
The  disinterested  nature  of  a  cow's  emotions  towards 
a  haystack  must,  I  am  afraid,  always  be  subject  to 
criticism.  It  is,  at  least,  peculiar  if  one  who  had 
such  a  keen  enjoyment  of  the  grosser  material 
pleasures,  as  Horace  plainly  had,  was  in  no  way 
eager  for  money,  which  is  the  normal  way  of  pro- 
curing them.  Horace  undoubtedly  wrote  poetry  to 
order;  he  produced  patriotic  ballads,  carefully  cut, 
carefully  dried.3  His  friend  Virgilius  was,  as  we 
know,  paid  by  the  line  for  one  famous  passage,  not 
indeed  as  the  result  of  any  previous  agreement.  But 
assume  that  Horace's  friendship  with  his  patron,  and 
even  with  his  patron's  patron,  was  what  he  declares 
it  to  be,  one  may  acquit  him  on  the  score  of  his 
relations  with  his  rich  and  powerful  friends,  can  one 
acquit  him  as  to  his  attitude  towards  his  poorer 
acquaintances?  No  doubt  Horace  despised  consul- 
ships and  things  of  that  kind.  He  might  well  despise 
them,  for  he  was  not  in  a  position  to  get  them. 
Neither  did  Horace  own  any  granaries  in  which  to 
store  Libyan  harvests.  He  could  preach  unsullied 
friendship  to  the  great.  But  what  was  his  attitude 

i  See  Satires,  Bk.  II,  6, 11.  30-60. 
^  ...  tu  pulses  omne  quod  obstat 

ad  Maecenatem  memori  si  mente  recurras. 

— Horace,  Satires,  Bk.  II,  6,  1.  30. 

;i  See  Odes  i  to  6  of  Bk.  Ill  and  Odes  4,  5,  14  and  15  of  Bk,  IV, 
and  the  statement  of  Suetonius  on  the  point. 

109 


THE  SNOBBERY  OF  OUINTUS 

towards  the  men  just  beneath  him  in  his  own  class, 
that  is  the  real  test?  His  father  was  a  freedman. 
He  himself  had  been  a  government  clerk.  What  is 
his  attitude  towards  government  clerks  and  towards 
freedmen  ?  The  government  clerk  turns  up  several 
times  in  his  writings,  always  for  contemptuous 
reference.  Could  anything,  for  instance,  be  more 
hurtful  to  the  feelings  of  a  rising  poet,  once  a  com- 
missioned officer,  like  Horace,  than  to  address  him 
by  his  Christian  name,  and  ask  him  to  attend  a 
meeting  of  civil  servants.1  He  lets  us  know  hjs 
sentiments  on  the  matter;  whilst  as  for  freedmen, 
his  father's  class,  he  commends  Maecenas'  rule  of 
making  no  social  distinctions  in  his  friendships,  pro- 
vided only  the  persons  are  not  mere  freedmen?  Save 
that  the  ambit  of  exclusion  is  less,  this  is  very  like 
the  suggestion  underlying  so  much  English  literature 
— all  Thackeray's  benevolencies,  for  instance — that 
no  social  distinctions  be  made,  provided  only  the  per- 
sons are  gentlemen,  that  is,  belong  to  the  "public 
school-university "  class.  At  any  lower  depth  no 
organism  can  exist  socially. 

Snobbery,  like  egoism,  is  much  more  tolerable  on 
paper  than  in  real  life.  Horace  is,  of  course,  one  of 
the  most  agreeable  of  human  writers;  he  was  quite 
right  in  prophesying  for  himself  an  everlasting 
popularity ;  if  anything  he  underestimated  his  immor- 
tality;3 his  defects  are  indeed  in  large  parts  his 
qualities.  But  a  great  development  took  place  both 
in  Horace  and  in  Virgil  from  the  time  when  they  first 
joined  the  Maecenas  set.  The  set  itself  probably 

1  "  d e  re  communi  scribae  magna  atque  nova  te 
'    orabant  hodie  meminisscs,  Quinte,  rercrti." 

—Horace,  Satires,  Bk.  II,  6.  36. 

2  cum  referrt  negas,  quail  sit  quisquc  parente 

natiis,  dumingenuus   .  .  .        — Horace,  Satires,  Bk.  I,  6,  8. 

.   .   .  dum  Capitolium 
scandet  cnm  tacita  virgine  pontifex. 

—Horace.  Odes,  Bk.  III.  30.  11.  8-9. 

110 


THE  SNOBBERY  OF  QUINTUS 

improved  and  became  more  serious.  In  the  absence 
of  actual  knowledge,  one  may  hazard  the  conjecture 
that  some  of  its  more  prominent  and  popular  members 
succumbed  to  their  social  qualities  at  an  early  age. 
I  wonder  if  Vibidius  and  Balatro  lived  long,  or  did 
death  come  to  avenge  their  damnable  drinking. 

The  work  of  the  real  men  of  genius  in  the  circle 
shows  a  steady  rise  in  tone.  A  recent  writer  has 
compared  Rudyard  Kipling  to  Theocritus.1  Without 
suggesting  any  personal  comparison  to  Horace — 
I  should  think  they  have  little  in  common — one  may 
from  the  literary  point  of  view  cite  Kipling  as  an 
interesting  example  of  a  writer  of  the  attractively 
commonplace  and  even  the  low,  who,  when  the 
occasion  called  for  it,  developed  a  noble  rhetoric  in 
the  service  of  his  government.  This  is  what  happened 
in  the  case  of  Virgil  and  Horace.  Virgil,  having 
been  at  first  a  light  writer,  devoted  himself  to  the 
cause  of  government  agriculture,  presumably  at  a 
certain  profit  to  himself.  From  agriculture  he  went 
on  to  patriotism,  and  finally  became  the  most 
glorious  rhetorician  of  all  the  ages,  exhibiting  a  com- 
bination of  dignity  and  imagination  that  no  other 
writer  has  approached.  Bourke  would  be  similis,  but 
not  secundus.  Horace  was  less  fortunate.  His  state 
poems  lack  the  grandeur  of  Virgil,  though  they  contain 
lines  that  have  become  immortal,  as,  for  instance,  the 
hackneyed  " Dulce  et  decorum  est pro p atria  won'."2 

It  was  in  his  translations  or  imitations  of  the 
Greek  lyric  writers,  whichever  they  are — we  scarcely 
have  evidence  sufficient-  to  decide — that  Horace 
attained  his  highest  point.  As  Mr.  Wilkins  puts 
it,  "  he  clothed  in  language  of  unequalled  felicity 
commonplace  reflections  on  a  narrow  range  of  topics." 3 

1  A  paper   read   at   the   National   University   by   Mr.  Murphy. 
Secretary  of  the  Classical  Association  of  University  College,  Dublin. 

2  Horace,  Odes,  Bk.  Ill,  2,  13. 

3  Introduction  to  Epistles,  p.  xviii. 

Ill 


THE  SNOBBERY  OF  QUINTUS 

The  verdict  of  Horace's  fellow  republican,  Thomas 
MacDonagh,  is  very  similar.  MacDonagh  was  a 
careful  student  of  Horace,  and  refers  to  him  six 
times  in  his  last  book. 

Modern  European  criticism  (he  says)  has  adopted, 
with  whatever  modifications,  canons  drawn  from 
the  works  of  Greek  and  Latin  literature.  ...  It 
has  not  broken  from  the  hypnotism  of  their  old 
conventions.  .  .  .  Some  odes  of  Horace,  with  no 
philosophy  and  no  emotional  appeal,  are  still 
traditionally  admired.  The  admiration  is  in  fact 
due  to  the  influence  of  the  conventional  criticism, 
which  drew  its  canons  originally  from  work  of  the 
tradition  in  which  the  poet  wrote,  and  which  now 
applies  those  canons  to  that  work.  In  part  also 
it  is  due  to  the  influence  of  the  known  personality. 
We  think  of  him  in  terms  of  his  urbanitas  and  his 
curiosa  felicitas ;  still  he  may  prophecy  as  of  old : 

Ego  postera 
crescam  laude  r teens, 

for  always  we  admire  his  modernness,  a  quality 
which  may  as  well  be  shown  in  the  interpretation 
of  some  ancient  artificiality  which  has  lived  on 
into  our  modern  civilization ;  as  in  the  expression 
of  some  old  natural  emotion  of  the  heart  of  man.1 

That  is  the  best  that  can  be  said  of  Horace.  A 
poet,  as  we  ordinarily  understand  it,  he  certainly 
was  not.  His  odes,  as  MacDonagh  put  it,  are 
"merely  fine  words  well  set  and  not  poetry  at  all."2 
Goethe  has  said  the  same.  He  had  no  "vision"; 
still  less  was  he,  what  he  believed  himself  to  be,  a 
philosopher.  Few  men,  indeed,  have  ever  had  a  less 
philosophical  mind  than  Horatius  Flaccus.  As  with 
FitzGerald  of  Omar  Khayyam,  his  views,  if  taken 

1  Literature  in  Ireland,  p.  104.  *Ibid.,  p.  121. 

112 


THE  SNOBBERY  OF  QUINTUS 

seriously,  are  not  merely  the  negation  of  philosophy, 
but  almost  the  negation  of  life.  Both  men  (the 
enthusiasms  of  Horace's  youth  being  at  an  end) 
flourished  at  a  dead  point  in  life,  in  a  sort  of  "pocket" 
of  existence,  a  period  of  complete  disillusionment. 
It  is  only  at  such  a  time  that  men  can  preach  a  purely 
static  conception  of  that  eternally  moving  thing 
which  we  call  life.  It  is  perhaps  because  they  appeal 
to  all  men  in  the  static  moments  of  existence,  in  the 
moral  backwash  of  life,  that  both  writers  are  so  popular. 
There  is  a  famous  passage  in  the  works  of  Newman,1 
in  which  he  speaks  of  men  coming  back  in  later  years 
to  the  classics  after  the  experience  of  life.  They  then 
recognize,  he  says,  the  truth  of  that  to  which  they 
had  formerly  given  only  a  notional  assent.  In  the 
case  of  Horace  I  must  confess  to  an  opposite 
experience,  if  I  am  as  yet  entitled  to  have  one. 
Coming  back  now  after  fifteen  or  twenty  years  to 
works  of  which  I  was  once  an  eager  student,  I  feel 
them  much  less  true  now  than  I  then  did.  The 
pagan  negative  is  far  more  attractive  to  an  active 
young  man  in  his  'teens  than  to  one  who  has  had 
some  actual  experience  of  life,  who  has  come  to 
recognize  the  necessity  of  that  higher  gospel  of 
existence  which  was  destined  to  supplant  the  per- 
versions and  platitudes  of  Horace  and  his  friends. 
But  tenues  grandia.  We  are  getting  into  the  deep 
water  of  philosophy.  It  is  enough  if  in  this  essay  j 
have  drawn  attention  to  an  aspect  of  Horace's 
character  and  writings  that  is  sometimes  overlooked. 


Grammar  of  Assent  (1892  ed.),  p.  78. 


THE   THEATRE:    ITS    EDUCA- 
TIONAL VALUE1 

To  make  one  of  the  notorious  offenders  of  history 
a  subject  of  panegyric  is  said  to  have  been  a  favourite 
exercise  with  the  sophists.  When  one  considers  some 
of  the  indictments  brought  against  the  theatre  at 
various  times,  one  cannot  help  thinking  his  task  seems 
no  very  different  one.  For,  when  I  write  of  the 
educational  value  of  the  theatre,  I  mean  the  living 
theatre — the  stage  with  the  actors  upon  it.  That 
plays  themselves  have,  when  read,  a  value,  no  excess 
of  fanaticism  has  ever  attempted  to  deny;  admission 
has  rendered  argument  unnecessary.  But  it  is  not 
the  perfect,  lifeless  organism,  but  the  living  being, 
capable  alike  of  evil  and  exaltation,  that  it  will  be 
our  task  to  consider. 

Between  the  play  acted  and  the  play  written  the 
gulf  is  very  wide  :  for  in  reading  the  text  of  a  drama 
we  rather  see  where  beauty  was  intended  than  feel 
it  and  deli-ght  in  it  ourselves.  The  action  dies.  The 
quick  retort  grows  pointless.  A  printed  direction  is 
all  that  remains  of  blinding  tears.  Yet  dulled  as  are 
our  feelings,  our  judgment  is  even  more  at  fault. 
Single  speeches  pall  on  us  because  we  have  forgotten 
those  others  that  make  them  pertinent.  We  estimate 
each  action  by  itself  and  not  in  reference  to  the 
character  deduced  from  all  his  actions.  From  this 
faulty  appraisement,  acting  saves  us.  It  is  the 
actor's  duty  to  synthetize,  to  give  in  one  performance 
what  can  only  be  obtained  by  many  readings,  to  fill 
each  word  with  life,  making  the  speeches  their  own 
1  A  paper  read  at  University  College,  Dublin,  in  1898. 
114 


THE  THEATRE:  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE 

commentary  :  in  a  word,  like  Pygmalion,  to  make  of 
marble,  man. 

Yet  from  all  the  arts  acting  has  ever  been  singled 
out  by  prejudice  for  its  onslaughts.  These  attacks 
have  been  of  two  kinds.  To  the  first  class  belong 
those  unreasoning  diatribes  which  still  emanate  from 
that  most  narrow-minded  of  all  societies,  the  lower 
middle-class  of  England,  interesting  only  as  a  survival 
of  those  prejudices  which  led  Cromwell  to  break 
church  windows  and  brought  Sir  Hudibras'  wrath 
upon  performing  bears.  In  such  productions  argu- 
ment soon  gives  place  to  anathema.  They  talk  of 
the  theatre  as  under  the  ban  of  heaven.  In  Pande- 
monium they  see  an  opera-house.  For  them  the 
fires  of  Tartarus  are  slaked  with  orange-juice  and 
fed  with  sawdust. 

There  is  a  form  of  objection  to  the  theatre, 
rational  in  itself  and  deserving  to  be  met,  not  by 
denial  but  by  argument.  Those  who  put  it  forward 
hold  that  the  admitted  deterioration  of  the  stage  in 
modern  times  has  robbed  it  of  its  usefulness.  That 
the  stage  had  at  one  time  a  great  value,  alike  artistic 
and  ethical,  few  reasonable  enquirers  can  deny.  The 
high  estimation  put  upon  the  theatre  by  the  Greeks 
as  an  instrument  of  virtue  is  a  matter  of  common 
knowledge.  Reflecting,  however,  that  much  that 
was  then  considered  as  appertaining  to  piety  is  now 
placed  in  the  category  of  vice,  it  is  perhaps  better  to 
leave  aside  considerations  drawn  from  this  source 
and  have  recourse  to  a  far  stronger  support.  We 
can  cite  the  fact  that  the  theatre  in  more  recent 
times  was  founded  by  the  Church  itself.  From  the 
old  mystery  plays,  themselves  direct  developments 
of  the  dramatic  elements  in  the  Mass,  through  the 
morality  plays  down  to  the  present-day  theatre  the 
tradition  is  unbroken.  To  deny  a  value  to  the  stage 
in  former  times  involves  a  condemnation  alike  of 
mediaeval  piety  and  renaissance  art. 

"5 


THE  THEATRE:  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE 

Between  the  drama  of  Shakespeare  and  the 
Renaissance,  however,  and  the  drama  of  the  present 
day,  the  difference  in  point  of  excellence  is  admittedly 
very  great.  It  is,  at  first  sight,  not  an  unreasonable 
deduction,  that  where  there  has  been  such  great 
deterioration,  all  educational  value  must  have 
departed.  But  this  reasoning  leaves  out  of  sight 
the  fact  that  even  an  inferior  production  of  our  own 
day  will  affect  us  far  more  powerfully  than  a  master- 
piece of  former  times.  For  it  speaks  to  us  in  our 
own  language.  It  uses  the  illustrations  of  our  own 
time  and  circumstances.  Even*  point  tells  home. 
^Eneas  steers  his  trireme  through  a  dignified  oblivion. 
We  give  up  our  night's  rest  to  accompany  Sherlock 
Holmes  on  his  steamer-chase  down  the  river. 

True  as  this  is  of  literature,  of  the  stage  it  is 
especially  true.  For  one  of  the  chief  purposes  of 
the  stage  is  to  affect  us  by  substituting  the  particular 
for  the  general.  It  is  not  abstract  ambition,  not  the 
hazy  character  of  a  forgotten  historical  past  but 
the  living  man  Macbeth,  that  meets  us  at  the  theatre 
and  for  a  time  seems  to  form  a  part  of  our  lives. 
If,  then,  the  stage  gains  its  effect  by  the  particular, 
making,  as  it  does,  its  artistic  generalization  seem- 
ingly particular  to  ourselves,  a  scene  of  present-day 
life  and  conversation  will  move  us  far  more  power- 
fully than  one  taken  from  a  remote  cycle.  The 
chloroformed  handkerchief  is  more  terrible  than  the 
poisoned  ring. 

The  theatre,  then,  should  affect  us,  but  what  should 
be  the  ultimate  object  of  its  so  doing  ?  Adopting 
the  ancient  theory,  I  maintain  that  in  affecting  and 
amusing  us  the  proper  end  of  the  theatre  should  be 
to  produce  elevation.  This  I  hold  the  present-day 
theatre  in  large  part  does.  But  there  are  certain 
broad  exceptions. 

First,  all  those  pieces  which  simply  amuse,  cater- 
ing to  the  taste  of  those  persons  who  refuse  the  actor 
116 


THE  THEATRE:  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE 

any  other  faculty  than  that  of  provoking  laughter 
and  see  in  the  proscenium  but  an  enlargement  of 
Punchinello.  Chief  among  such  pieces  is  the  musical 
farce. 

True  comedy  often  elevates  by  its  delicacy  and 
beauty:  in  it  that  chastening  effect  gained  by  the 
generalization  of  faults  is  never  absent.  But  the 
class  of  production  of  \vhich  the  musical  farce1  is  the 
latest  and  worse  development  seeks  amusement  as 
its  only  object,  and  to  that  object  very  seldom  attains. 

Further,  let  us  exclude  that  product  of  dilute 
Ibsenism,  the  problem-play.  To  do  so  may  perhaps 
seem  strange ;  for  we  are  accustomed  to  hear  such 
plays  belauded  as  the  great  teaching-force  of  the 
modern  stage.  This,  however,  is  only  the  revival  of 
an  old  fallacy.  The  theory  that  art  should  teach 
has  long  been  exploded.  Neither  Sophocles  nor 
Shakespeare  ever  sought  to  point  morals.  Their 
object  wras  to  elevate.  Hence,  in  their  hands  even 
a  plot  of  an  unpleasant  nature  is,  by  the  method  of 
treatment,  turned  to  good.  In  Mr.  Pinero's  dramas, 
on  the  contrary,  elevation  is  held  of  no  account. 
Everything  is  sacrificed  to  inculcating  some  well- 
worn  precept.  Yet  the  lesson  taught  by  the  fifth 
act  is  but  a  sorry  reparation  for  the  debasing  effect 
of  the  other  four.  The  author  advises  virtue,  his 
play  teaches  vice. 

To  the  problem-play  must  be  added  the  sensational 
drama,  a  class  of  production  which  seeks  effects  of 
no  higher  character  than  such  as  are  produced  by  the 
bull-fight  and  the  prize-ring.  Yet  in  speaking  of  the 
sensational  drama  the  reference  is  not  so  much  to  the 
blood-and-thunder  productions  of  the  Ambigu;Drury 
Lane,  or  our  own  Queen's,  as  those  card-games, 
auctions,  and  similar  mechanical  expedients  with 
which  Mr.  Alexander  enthralls  his  patrons.  Not 

1  Revues  had  not  then  been  invented. 
117 


THE  THEATRE:  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE 

that  he  is  not  a  good  actor,  even  if  overrated  by 
female  audiences  on  account  of  his  personal  attrac- 
tions;  but,  like  many  other  able  men,  he  is  given  to 
sacrificing  art  to  gain,  Shakespeare  to  Pinero. 

After  such  large  exceptions  it  may  seem  that 
very  little  remains  behind.  But  there  will  be  found 
a  very  considerable  core,  all  the  more  valuable 
for  this  paring.  First,  we  have  the  revivals  of 
Shakespeare,  which  for  the  playgoer  give  his  pro- 
duction a  life  which  the  mere  reader  can  never 
appreciate.  Side  by  side  with  these  is  the  frequent 
production  of  what  are  known  as  "  old  English 
comedies,"  despite  their  Irish  authorship.  Moreover, 
there  is  another  class  of  play  which  belongs  peculiarly 
to  the  modern  world :  those  plays  that  produce 
elevation  through  the  Christian  virtues  of  humility 
and  kindness,  virtues  which  ancient  critics  would 
have  despised,  and  to  which  Christianity  may  be 
said  to  have  first  accorded  that  rank.  As  instance, 
I  would  take  that  old  and  simple  yet  moving  comedy 
of  Sydney  Grundy,  homely  as  its  title,  A  Pair  of 
Spectacles,  in  which  an  audience  is  made  to  walk  not 
in  the  paths  of  patriotism  or  some  greater  virtue, 
but  in  those  of  charity.  Indeed,  as  far  as  the  native 
theatre  is  concerned,  comedy,  as  in  later  Athens,  is 
at  a  far  higher  level  than  the  graver  art.  Mr.  Gilbert's 
humour  seems  justly  destined  to  outlast  any  of  the 
more  serious  productions  of  Carton  or  Henry  Arthur 
Jones.1 

Another  tendency,  however,  has  recently  shown 
itself  in  the  modern  theatre,  and  deserves  all 
encouragement.  The  production  of  serious  drama 
has  been  subject  to  a  far  smaller  decline  in  other 
countries,  as,  for  instance,  France,  than  it  has  in 
these  countries.  This  has,  in  later  years,  been  recog- 
nized in  England.  As  a  result  a  very  praiseworthy 

1  It  has  done  so. 

118 


THE  THEATRE:  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE 

readiness  is  shown  at  the  present  day,  not  only  to 
translate  such  works,  but  also  to  perform  them  in 
the  original  tongue.  Such  a  practice  may  be  con- 
sidered unpatriotic  by  Englishmen ;  but  in  this 
country,  where  we  are  more  cosmopolitan,  it  can 
meet  with  nothing  but  approval.  The  effect  of 
Henrik  Ibsen  is  evil,  but  whilst  such  a  piece  as 
Coppee's  For  the  Crown  can  be  seen  on  our  boards, 
we  can  still  congratulate  ourselves  that  that  high 
ideal  elevation  which  has  at  all  times  been  the  acme 
of  stage  production  still  exists  in  our  theatres.  Whilst 
Rostand's  Cyrano  de  Bergerac  shows  an  elevating 
reunion  of  the  drama  and  poetry  which  in  the  English 
theatre  have  so  long  been  unhappily  divorced. 

The  consideration  of  foreign  drama  leads  us  to 
another  proposition.  Is  there  any  way  in  which  we 
might  obtain  a  larger  share  of  these  ideal  productions 
than  is  doled  out  to  us  by  our  British  neighbours  ? 
For  it  is  the  most  unsatisfying  feature  of  the 
present-day  stage  that  there  alone  is  Ireland  con- 
sistently and  unblushingly  treated,  not  as  a  country, 
but  a  province;  yet  not  alone  are  the  Irish,  like  the 
French,  by  nature  actors,  but  Congreve,  Macklin, 
Goldsmith,  and  Sheridan,  the  authors  of  the  best 
English  comedies — comedies  that  can  compare  with 
those  of  any  other  language — were  one  and  all 
Irishmen.  In  more  recent  times,  Dion  Boucicault, 
Sheridan  Knowles  and  the  author  of  the  Story  of 
Waterloo  in  our  own  day  are  again  our  countrymen. 
Nay,  had  our  ancestors  known  English  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  perhaps  even  the  immortal  bard 
might  have  found  a  rival. 

Even  at  the  present  day,  I  think,  had  we  a  national 
stage,  it  would  soon  soar  above  that  materialism 
with  which  the  contemporary  British  stage  is  in 
large  part  blighted.  In  regard  to  comedies,  indeed, 
there  would  soon  be  very  little  comparison ;  whilst 
as  to  tragedy,  though  the  sublimity  of  Sophocles 

H9 


THE  THEATRE:  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE 

might  be  above  us,  yet  the  pathos  of  Euripides  would 
soon  find  disciples,  perhaps  even  disciples  fit  to  rival 
their  master.1  Ireland  is  stili  possessed  of  a  virgin 
genius:  grant  but  an  opportunity  to  her  writers  of 
working  free  from  the  trammels  of  another  nation's 
taste,  a  splendid  era  of  theatrical  production  will  be 
one  of  the  first  results.  I  do  not,  however,  suggest 
as  an  expedient  those  proposals  for  corporation- 
governed  theatres,  with  which  Mr.  Irving  used  to 
garnish  his  foundation  stones.  A  municipal  council, 
though  essentially  selective,  is  not  necessarily  artistic. 
Even  Aristotle's  purging  of  the  passions  is  not 
especially  the  province  of  the  Public  Health 
Department. 

My  remedy  is  a  different — perhaps  a  somewhat 
visionary — one.  I  would  revive  the  ancient  system 
of  university  theatres.  I  would  establish  a  university 
theatre  where  plays  might  be  enacted,  not  as  a  means 
of  displaying  that  elaborate  scenic  paraphernalia 
which  chokes  dramatic  production  in  present-day 
London  as  in  later  Rome,  but  rather  like  the  perfor- 
mance of  the  Comedie  Frangaise,  as  a  mode  of 
education.  Advancing  even  a  step  further  than  the 
Comedie  Frangaise  we  might  have  not  only  a  vigorous 
native  drama,  vigorous  particularly  in  comedy,  but 
the  best  productions  of  other  countries,  performed  in 
the  original.  Were  such  a  theatre  established  in 
Ireland  fit  audiences  would  not  long  be  wanting. 

In  conclusion,  then,  I  suggest  that  the  theatre  in 
England  was  once  a  great  factor  in  that  elevation  of 
the  mind  which  is  the  chief  business  of  education, 
that  play-writing  has  since  decayed,  but  that  the 
plays  of  to-day  make  up  in  their  effects  for  their  loss 
of  excellence  by  their  use  of  the  language  and  illus- 
trations of  our  own  time.  Hence,  even  in  the  stage 
of  the  present  day  there  is  much  still  valuable,  whilst 

1  The  revival  was  shortly  after  to  come  at  the  Abbey. 
120 


THE  THEATRE:  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE 

the  revival  of  Shakespeare  and  of  old  English,  or 
rather  old  Irish,  comedy,  together  with  the  pro- 
duction of  foreign  plays  from  those  countries  in  which 
theatrical  production  still  flourishes,  bring  within 
our  reach  the  stage  in  its  highest  form.  But  whilst 
holding  that  the  present-day  stage  is  useful,  I  admit 
that  it  could  be  exalted  and  improved,  and  in  no  way 
better  than  by  allowing  a  native  theatre  to  Ireland, 
whose  genius  is  still  unexhausted,  and  where  many 
of  those  conditions  are  still  to  be  found  that  produced 
the  drama  of  Elizabeth  and  of  Greece.  In  such  an 
event  I  am  confident  that  the  drama  would  once 
again  vindicate  its  place  as  the  highest  of  the  arts, 
and  that  even  in  ourselves  it  would  find  not  its  critics 
but  its  audience. 


121 


THE  RELIGIOUS  ASPECT  OF 
WOMEN'S  SUFFRAGE1 

Women's  Suffrage  has  of  late  been  treated  of  from 
many  points  of  view,  but  its  religious  aspect  has 
been  but  little  dealt  with.  Of  its  moral  aspect  one 
hears  often  enough.  Opponents  of  women's  suffrage 
usually  state  that  whilst  they  refuse  the  vote  to 
women,  yet — the  word  "yet"  is  the  part  of  the 
statement  perhaps  hardest  to  comprehend— yet  they 
cherish  a  higher  ideal  of  womanhood  than  that 
entertained  by  those  who  would  give  them  the 
franchise.  This  higher  ideal  would,  it  is  said,  of  a 
certainty  be  destroyed,  or  at  least  impaired,  if  woman 
were  led  into  the  evil  practice  of  voting.  The  fine 
flavour,  the  higher  and  nobler  aspects  of  woman's 
nature,  the  subtler  and  more  delicate  nuances  of 
female  character — in  a  word,  all  the  unworldliness 
of  womanhood  would  perish  and  be  replaced  by  a 
debased  exultation  in  a  sordid  struggle.  Woman's 
moral  nature  must  inevitably  perish  in  the  new 
excitement.  All  this  would  come  about  from  women 
"  voting." 

Now  "vote"  is  a  term  almost  peculiar  to  the 
English  language.  Other  tongues  employ  some 
such  familiar  word  as  "voice"  for  the  purpose. 
Hence  there  is  no  extravagance  in  supposing  a 
foreigner,  or  even  a  native  Irish  speaker,  to  be  per- 
plexed by  such  a  term.  Supposing  him,  then,  to 

1  This  essay,  originally  published  in  the  Irish  Review,  is  now  out 
of  date.  The  Suffrage  cause  has  triumphed — one  of  the  few 
movements  of  liberation  that  has.  It  may,  however,  be  interesting 
to  compare  the  forecast  with  the  reality. — A.E.C. 

122 


WOMEN'S  SUFFRAGE 

seek  to  discover  the  meaning  of  this  new  term 
"  voting,"  from  the  context,  as  foreigners  commonly 
must,  at  what  conclusion  would  he  arrive  ?  He 
would  hear  that  "  voting "  was  a  newly-conceived 
and  terrible  instrument,  for  the  moral  ruin  and  social 
debasement  of  women,  that  women  had  hitherto  lived 
lives  of  holy  retirement  in  sculleries  and  other  peace- 
ful places;  but  that  voting  was  ruining  their  homes, 
destroying  their  morals,  embittering  their  disposi- 
tions, making  their  manners  savage  and  their 
tempers  quarrelsome,  that  "voting"  distracted 
woman's  thoughts  from  household  affairs,  provided 
a  motive  of  dissension  in  every  domestic  circle  and 
roused  that  deadliest  of  passions,  the  lust  of  conquest, 
the  desire  to  humble  those  opposed  to  you  in  the 
dust.  "  Voting"  did,  or  would  do,  all  these  things. 
It  would  require  little  imagination  on  the  part  of  the 
foreigner  or  Irish  speaker  to  conclude  that  a  practice 
(whatever  it  was)  which  led  to  results  so  deadly  and 
so  permanent,  must  at  least  be  a  practice  very  fre- 
quently indulged  in.  He  would  most  probably 
believe  that  people  gave  themselves  up  to  "voting" 
three  or  four  times  a  week  and  continued  "voting" 
into  the  late  hours  of  the  night  or  the  early  hours  of 
the  morning — hence  its  moral  disrepute.  On  the 
whole,  he  would,  we  fancy,  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  "voting"  was  some  new  form  of  game,  some- 
thing like  "  bridge."  He  might,  perhaps,  wonder 
why  the  admonition  to  abstain  from  it  was  confined 
to  one  sex. 

As  to  the  comparative  merits  of  "bridge"  and  of 
"  voting  "  as  moral  agencies,  I  need  only  say  that 
my  position  is  quite  reasonable.  I  desire  no 
exceptional  treatment,  no  special  preference  for 
"voting,"  as  compared  with  its  rival  vice.  And, 
though  scarcely  a  friend  of  bridge,  I  would  give  my 
whole-hearted  support  to  any  movement  which  had 
as  its  object  to  enable  women — and  men — to  devote 
123 


WOMEN'S  SUFFRAGE 

half  an  hour  every  five,  or  even  every  three,  years  to 
playing  bridge.  The  resulting  disturbance  of  their 
emotions  and  disarrangement  of  their  ordinary 
occupations  I  should  regard  as  an  inevitable  evil, 
to  which  even  the  least  opportunist  statesman  must 
on  rare  occasions  be  prepared  to  submit.  In  this 
way  "bridge"  and  "  voting "  would  be  placed  upon 
an  exact  equality.  As  to  the  comparative  utility  of 
the  one  occupation  and  the  other,  I  make  no  point. 
I  speak  only  of  their  immediate  effect  upon  morals. 
As  to  the  moral  effect  of  political  practices  other 
than  voting,  no  question  of  course  at  present  arises, 
since  from  the  Ladies'  Land  League  to  the  Primrose 
League  women  have  at  all  times  been  encouraged 
to  indulge  in  political  practices  of  all  kinds,  voting 
excepted. 

The  religious  aspect  of  women's  suffrage  is  a  more 
serious  matter,  and  the  political  developments  of  the 
past  year  or  two  have  made  it  especially  so.  The 
likelihood  of  a  measure  of  universal  suffrage  at  no 
distant  date  has  set  many  people  to  do  their  political 
sums  anew.  The  proposal  to  extend  the  political 
system  of  continental  Europe,  or  the  more  advanced 
part  of  it,  to  these  islands  has  suggested  that  it  may 
mean  the  extension  of  its  politics  as  well,  and  that 
the  continent  of  Europe  is  by  no  means  so  far  away 
as  many  sober-minded  inhabitants  of  Great  Britain 
and  Ireland  placed  it  in  their  political  geography. 
No  doubt  manhood  suffrage  already  exists  in  the 
United  States,  but  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that 
when  once  manhood  suffrage  is  adopted  in  these 
islands,  there  is  no  such  barrier  as  the  American 
constitution  to  stand  between  the  people,  thus  newly 
defined,  and  its  will,  whatever  that  will  may  be. 

That  the  difference  between  even  a  rather  broad, 
though  thoroughly  unscientific,  system  of  franchise, 
such  as  that  now  existing  amongst  us,  and  complete 
manhood  suffrage,  is  not  a  merely  formal  or  nominaj 

124 


WOMEN'S  SUFFRAGE 

one,  may  be  shown  by  a  very  simple  political  example. 
Those  of  us  who  read  the  newspapers  are  familiar 
with  the  phrases,  "  Catholic  Belgium  "  and  "  Infidel 
France."  These,  of  course,  refer  to  the  religious 
character  of  the  Government  in  the  one  country  and 
the  unreligious,  and  even  until  very  recently,  anti- 
religious  nature  of  the  administration  in  the  other. 
But  it  is  too  often  forgotten  that  the  real  difference 
between  the  small  country  and  the  great  is  in  large 
part  a  difference  of  franchise.  In  Belgium,  as  in 
France,  feeling  runs  high  upon  matters  connected 
with  religion,  but  the  Catholic  party  have  for  a 
number  of  years  past  held  their  power  by  a  narrow 
margin  of  votes.  They  have  indeed  improved  their 
position  at  the  last  election.  One  need  not  assert 
that  the  Belgian  character  is  the  same  as  the  French, 
or  that  an  alternative  government  would,  if  returned 
to  power,  copy  the  French  ministry  in  every  parti- 
cular. It  is  enough  to  point  out  that  if  property 
were  to  lose  its  additional  votes  in  Belgium,  and  the 
system  of  manhood  suffrage,  which  we  may  see 
adopted  in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  before  long, 
were  to  be  introduced  in  that  country,  the  present 
Government  would  almost  to  a  certainty  fall  from 
power  and  a  wholly  novel  situation  come  into  being. 
Without  indulging  in  prophecy,  one  can  safely  assert 
that  were  the  French  franchise  assimilated  to  that 
of  Belgium,  or  the  Belgian  franchise  to  that  of 
France,  the  difference  of  temper  between  the 
governments  of  the  two  countries  would  be  much 
less  marked  than  it  is  under  existing  conditions.  It 
is  a  grave  mistake  to  assume  that  the  effects  of  a 
change  in  franchise  are  limited  to  the  polling  booths. 
But  there  is  another  extension  of  franchise  which 
has  often  been  mooted  in  France,  but  towards  which 
French  politicians  of  what  are  called  "advanced 
views  "  have  usually  shown  a  determined  hostility — 
namely,  the  concession  of  woman  suffrage.  It  might 

125 


WOMEN'S  SUFFRAGE 

be  imagined  that  when  one  added  the  essentially 
logical  character  of  the  French  mind  to  the  pro- 
foundly democratic  nature  of  French  political  theory, 
the  inevitable  conclusion  of  womanhood  suffrage 
must  result.  But  it  does  not.  And  the  reason  is 
by  no  means  mysterious.  Upon  the  mind  of  every 
modern  French  politician  of  "advanced"  opinions 
there  operates,  in  this  matter,  a  motive  much  stronger 
than  his  adherence  to  democratic  theory — namely, 
his  deep-seated  opposition  to  religion  and  religious 
influence.  And  he  refuses  any  concession  to  woman 
in  this  matter,  precisely  because  he  sees,  in  that  clear 
and  wholly  unsentimental  way  in  which  French 
people  view  things,  both  good  and  evil,  that  votes 
given  to  women  would  be  votes  given  to  his  enemies, 
votes  given  to  the  Church. 

It  would,  of  course,  be  sufficiently  laughable  to 
suggest  that  either  in  France,  or  indeed  any  other 
country,  all  women  are  religious.  Yet  the  politician 
is  not  mistaken  in  his  rough  estimate — politicians 
seldom  are  mistaken  in  rough  estimates — that  in  the 
bulk  women  are  on  the  side  of  religion.  The  true 
and  real  devotion  of  women  to  the  religion  which 
they  profess,  is  one  of  the  salient  features  of  Western 
civilization  ;  nor  can  it  in  our  day  be  explained  away 
by  the  old-fashioned  theory,  still  popular  among 
French  unbelievers,  of  educational  differences  between 
men  and  women.  In  the  classes  where  religious 
fervour  is  most  to  be  found,  there  is  nowadays  little 
difference  in  the  curricula  of  male  and  female 
education. 

Perhaps  it  is  an  impertinence,  especially  for  men, 
to  seek  to  afford  any  reason  for  what  is  almost  a 
primary  fact.  But  two  causes,  at  any  rate,  suggest 
themselves  as  accounting  for  the  greater  religious 
fervour  of  woman.  First,  that  woman's  nature  is 
more  spiritual,  more  self-sacrificing,  much  less  sunk 
in  material  pleasure  than  that  of  men.  And  secondly, 
126 


WOMEN'S  SUFFRAGE 

viewing  the  matter  on  a  somewhat  lower  plane, 
woman  feels  a  more  urgent  need  of  that  protection 
which  religion  affords  than  man  does.  It  is  the  great 
work  of  religion  to  combat  vice.  Now,  it  is  no 
exaggeration  to  say  that  women  have  to  bear  the 
brunt  of  the  vices  of  the  world,  especially  of  its 
coarser  vices.  Who  pays  the  penalty  of  the  great 
lower-class  vice  of  drunkenness,  for  instance,  to  give 
the  most  mentionable  example  ?  Is  it  strange  that, 
apart  from  any  higher  reason  at  all,  women  should 
cling  desperately  to  that  which  seeks  to  avert  or  to 
mitigate  so  dire  an  evil,  whether  the  religion  finds 
its  instrument  in  the  Catch-my-Pal  button  or  the 
Sacred  Heart  badge.  It  is  interesting  to  remark 
that  many  men  dread  feminine  influence  for  just  the 
same  reason  that  they  dread  religious  influence.  A 
fear  lest  their  coarser  vices  should  be  hampered  is 
often  one  of  the  strongest  motives  in  stirring  men  to 
oppose  women's  suffrage.  And  all  the  great  vested 
interest  of  vice  is  commonly  ranged  against  woman's 
suffrage. 

Of  course  vicious  men  are  not  the  only  opponents 
of  women's  suffrage.  Its  most  numerous  opponents 
are  a  body  of  persons,  for  the  most  part  of  irreproach- 
able conduct,  the  great  cohort  of  henpecked  husbands. 
They  are  to  be  found  even  in  high  places,  and  to 
them  fall  to  be  added  the  victims  of  household 
tyranny,  whether  motherly  or  sisterly.  Such  persons 
seek,  in  a  furious  opposition  to  women's  suffrage, 
the  only  possible  revenge  for  repeated  domestic 
humiliations. 

I  have  said  enough  to  show  that  the  political 
influence  of  women  is,  from  a  religious  point  of  view, 
a  profoundly  important  influence — important,  both 
indirectly  in  its  influence  upon  vice,  especially  coarse 
vice — and  directly  in  its  influence  on  religion  itself. 
It  is  owing  to  the  suppression  of  this  influence  in 
politics  that  the  extraordinary  phenomenon  of  the 
127 


WOMEN'S  SUFFRAGE 

persecution  of  a  national  church  becomes  possible. 
The  women  pray;  the  men  persecute.  Under  a 
system  of  complete  manhood  and  womanhood 
suffrage,  such  a  result  must  be  almost  impossible. 
For  a  church  that  had  neither  women  nor  men  to 
support  it  could  not  well  be  persecuted.  There 
would  be  no  church  left  to  persecute.  Whilst  all 
history  shows  that  a  strong-minded  and  sincere 
minority — and  in  religious  matters  women  will  always 
be  sincere — possessing  the  franchise  is  quite  capable 
of  protecting  its  religious  practices  and  beliefs  against 
any  governmental  oppression.  The  reason  nowadays 
that  the  persecution  of  churches  can  be  successfully 
accomplished  is  that  the  greatest  body  of  the  sincere 
and  earnest  supporters  of  the  church  are  excluded 
from  political  power,  through  disability  of  sex. 

An  interesting  discussion  as  to  the  possibility  of 
religious  persecution,  or  "bullying  "  as  someone  has 
put  it,  under  self-government  has  recently  been  in  pro- 
gress. The  likelihood  of  such  a  result  is  not  seldom 
assumed  on  both  sides.  One  set  of  combatants 
complain  of  the  probable  bullying  of  Protestantism. 
Thosewhoanswerthemoftenhint,ratherambiguously 
of  course,  that  the  Catholic  Church  will  be  bullied 
instead.  Personally,  I  look  upon  this  last  result  as 
very  unlikely.  Putting  it  at  the  lowest,  the  religious 
hatreds  of  East  Ulster  will  for  years  to  come  be  a 
sufficient  stimulant  to  prevent  the  Catholic  majority 
from  growing  indifferent.  Whatever  danger  there 
is  to  religion  in  Ireland  would  come,  not  from  self- 
government,  but  from  a  closer  incorporation  into  the 
English  democracy,  under  the  system  of  the  Union. 
When  the  people  of  Ireland  had  come  to  read  the 
English  Press  seven  days  in  the  week,  then  a  fran- 
chise like  that  of  France  in  a  really  United  Kingdom 
that  exalted  ultra-democratic  ideas  and  weakened 
national  tendencies,  might  constitute  a  real  danger 
to  religion.  The  English  system  of  education,  for 

128 


WOMEN'S  SUFFRAGE 

instance,  would,  in  such  a  case,  almost  certainly 
be  extended  to  Ireland.  Some  may  think,  how- 
ever, that  even  if  accompanied  by  self-government, 
manhood  suffrage  has  dangers. 

I  do  not  share  that  view,  but  rather  welcome  this 
extension  of  democracy,  if  it  be  real  democracy;  if 
the  conception  of  "Demos"  is  not  one  that,  as  in 
France,  excludes  half  the  nation.  If  we  sometimes 
see  a  democracy  lead  us  a  strange  dance,  it  is  because 
it  is  dancing  without  a  partner.  Man  and  woman 
are  natural  complements  in  political  functions,  as  in 
the  other  relations  of  life.  The  clear  commonsense 
of  woman,  and  her  close  touch  with  the  realities  of 
life,  those  stern  realities  which  we  call  house,  food 
and  clothes,  this  office  and  that  attribute  peculiarly 
fit  women  to  exercise  a  restraining  influence  on  the 
vagaries  of  an  universal  electorate.  We  have  all 
heard  of  the  fable  of  the  belly  and  the  members. 
The  former  has  come  into  the  greater  respect  in  our 
times.  But  a  changed  metaphor  is  needed  in  present 
circumstances.  In  government  by  an  universal  male 
electorate,  we  see  the  functioning  of  half  an  organism; 
no  wonder  the  result  is  indigestion.  And  indigestion 
has  ever  been  the  mother  of  discontent. 

There  is  a  very  old  trite  motto,  so  old  and  trite 
that  the  mention  of  it  must  inevitably  sound  funny, 
and  yet,  owing  to  its  very  triteness,  showing  that  it 
touches  a  deep  chord  in  the  human  heart — "  What 
is  home  without  a  mother  ? "  Put  it  a  little 
further.  The  mother  is  the  Home.  And  when  the 
father  is  out  drinking,  or  out  blaspheming,  I  claim 
a  vote  for  the  homes.  Once  the  voice — the  true 
voice  of  the  homes — is  heard  at  the  polls,  we  need 
have  no  fear  of  any  change  of  suffrage. 


129 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND 
OTHERWISE 

(A   LECTURE   TO   AN    IRISH    IRELAND   AUDIENCE) 

There  has  just  been  celebrated  the  silver  wedding 
of  the  Pale  and  the  Gael,  the  twenty-fifth  year  of  the 
Irish  movement.  The  celebration  took  on  a  strange 
form,  its  official  suppression.  But  the  thing  that 
mattered  was  that  the  movement  had  lasted  twenty- 
five  years.  A  great  many  Chief  Secretaries  and 
Lords  Lieutenant  have  ridden  up  Cork  Hill  and 
driven  down  it  again  in  that  period.  Things  have 
been  moving  all  the  time.  Colum,  or  Kieran,  has 
grown  to  manhood,  ttyigiT)  and  TTl^ijie  are  married. 
To  the  new  generation  the  Gaelic  movement  is  an 
ultimate  fact;  a  thing  that  seems  to  have  lasted 
forever.  They  never  remember  a  time  when  there 
was  not  a  Gaelic  League. 

It  is  an  ultimate  fact.  What  sort  of  a  fact  is  it? 
To  the  older  generation  it  is  different.  We  saw  the 
sunrise.  We  watched  the  first  struggle  with  the 
clouds.  Learning  Irish  was  in  our  day  a  very 
different  process  from  studying  French  or  Latin 
or  Greek.  We  were  "  alive  in  that  dawn,"  and 
drank  of  the  first  enthusiasm,  deep  or  shallow  as  our 
nature  was,  but  it  was  wine  all  the  time.  What  a 
wild  hope  was  that  of  twenty  years  agone  :  to  revive 
a  dying  nation  through  its  language.  The  schoolboy 
of  to-day  who  gets  slapped  with  the  same  melancholy 
resignation  for  missing  his  Irish,  as  for  neglecting 
his  algebra,  must  look  on  matters  in  a  very  different 
light.  The  dawn  with  its  magic  colours  is  long  past, 

130 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

and  the  noonday  sun,  as  it  scorches  you,  is  a  very 
commonplace  object.  Only  when  it  is  veiled  by 
dark  clouds  do  we  think  of  it  at  all. 

The  star  of  Irish  Ireland,  when  it  first  shone  forth 
in  our  sky,  was,  and  still  is,  a  five-pointed  one: 
language,  industries,  music,  dancing  and  games. 
Literature  falls  under  language,  music  includes  song. 
Of  the  five  points,  only  two  were  in  any  sense 
novel — language  and  dancing.  The  worst  enemies 
of  Ireland,  just  as  they  admired  our  scenery,  had 
usually  appreciated  our  music,  as  far  as  they  were 
able,  which  was  not  as  a  rule  very  far.  For  to 
appreciate  Irish  song,  without  a  knowledge  of  Gaelic, 
is  a  hopeless  task.  I  have  occasionally  met  people 
whose  dislike  of  Irish  manufacture  extended  even  to 
our  music;  but  these  are  the  people  who  would 
prefer  foreign  grapes  to  home  grapes.  The  advocacy 
of  Irish  industries  is,  of  course,  as  old  as  Dean  Swift 
and  as  new  as  the  latest  Chief  Secretary.  The  great 
movement,  which  has  captured  most  of  what  is  best 
in  Irish  manhood  for  native  games  and  sports,  goes 
back  to  1884,  the  days  of  Croke  and  Cusack,  the 
period  of  the  land  war.  Only  the  lowest  classes  in 
Dublin,  and  also  the  upper-middle  and  a  small  part 
of  the  lower-middle  class  of  Dublin,  and  some  other 
towns  stand  aside  from  Irish  games.  The  rest  of 
the  country  is  solid  in  their  favour.  It  is  often 
thought  nowadays  that  the  Gaelic  Athletic  move- 
ment is  in  some  way  the  fruit  of  the  Gaelic  League  or 
Irish  Ireland  movement.  It  belongs  to  the  previous 
generation. 

The  characteristic  of  the  Irish  Ireland  movement, 
as  it  came  to  be  known,  was  that  it  combined  all 
these  diverse  and  yet  related  elements  into  a  single 
rule  of  life,  giving  to  language  study  a  place  in  the 
national  programme,  which  it  had  never  held  before. 
For  it  made  Gaelic  its  key-note,  insisting  on  the 
importance  aad  practicability  of  the  study  and  use 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

of  Irish  by  every  Irish  Nationalist.  It  thus  sub- 
stituted for,  or  at  least  added  to,  the  purely 
political  concept  of  national  endeavour  then  in 
vogue,  a  complexus  of  duties,  activities  and  enthu- 
siasms covering  a  very  wide  area  and  penetrating 
into  the  deepest  recesses  of  our  social  life.  Under 
the  impulse  of  a  single  aim,  it  made  war  on  many 
different  fronts,  carrying  on  a  number  of  campaigns 
with  varying  fortunes,  all  directed  to  a  common 
purpose,  to  save  the  national  soul  of  Ireland.  It 
was  in  this  way  that  an  importance  seemingly  dis- 
proportionate came  to  be  attached  by  the  new  move- 
ment to  quite  trifling  things,  a  dance,  a  song,  a 
game,  much  as  men  cherish  the  feasts  and  fasts  or 
pious  observances  of  a  faith,  not  for  themselves,  but 
as  sentinels  of  that  for  which  they  stand.  Among 
Irish  Irelanders  it  became  no  venial  matter  to  eat 
apples  from  an  un-Irish  tree.  For  the  battle  for 
any  one  point  was  looked  upon  as  the  battle  for  all. 
This  was  the  strength  of  the  new  movement.  It 
would  tolerate  no  harpists  clothed  in  English  shoddy, 
or  cricketers  studying  Irish,  or  hurlers  singing  music- 
hall  songs.  No  one  has  ever  yet  ventured  to  waltz 
at  an  Irish  college.  My  friend  and  frequent  editor, 
Mr.  D.  P.  Moran,  in  his  brilliant  philosophy  of  Irish 
Ireland  and  in  the  weekly  paper  in  which  he 
hammered  home  its  doctrines  did  much  to  win 
acceptance  for  this  point  of  view.  The  name  IRISH 
IRELAND  itself  very  justly  expresses  it. 

The  new  movement  drew  its  strength  from  dis- 
cipline and  self-restraint.  Discipline  can  rouse  as 
deep  a  fervour  as  liberty.  It  has  made  more  converts 
in  every  age.  Once  its  forces  were  fairly  mobilized, 
about  the  turn  of  the  century,  they  advanced  with 
the  irresistible  onset  of  a  conquering  army.  The 
movement  spread  like  wildfire  through  the  countr)-. 
But  after  a  time  the  onset  slackened;  resistance 
gathered  from  various  quarters.  When  the  first 

132 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

fervour  had  passed,  say  about  the  middle  of  the  first 
decade  of  the  century,  the  advance  of  Irish  Ireland 
may  be  said  to  have  been  held  up.  The  opposition 
sprang  from  various  causes.  Each  point  in  the  Irish 
Ireland  programme  hurt  somebody.  One  man 
wanted  his  socks  and  another  his  songs.  One  man 
wanted  Rugby  football  and  another  two  steps.  They 
all  wanted  ease,  without  study.  The  Irish  Ireland 
movement  called  on  them  to  abandon  all  these  things. 
It  was  not  so  much  that  they  became  actively  hostile 
to  Irish  Ireland — though  some  did — but  rather  they 
admired  it  as  we  admire  heroic  virtue  from  a  safe 
distance.  Men  came  to  have  the  same  sort  of 
patronizing  admiration  for  Irish  Ireland  as,  say,  for 
the  monks  of  Mount  Melleray. 

When  the  advance  of  Irish  Ireland,  to  continue 
the  martial  metaphor,  was  held  up,  its  forces  did 
what  any  other  forces  would  do  in  the  circumstances. 
They  dug  themselves  in,  and  a  sort  of  trench  warfare 
may  be  said  to  have  ensued  ever  since.  Certain 
territory  the  Irish  Ireland  forces  occupied  very 
firmly  ;  within  that  territory  their  will  prevailed, 
but  the  Ireland  that  was  Irish  came  to  be  separated 
from  the  Ireland  that  was  otherwise  by  a  very  clear 
line  of  demarcation,  a  line  of  severance  not  less  well 
marked  because  it  divided  men's  souls  and  not  the 
solid  earth. 

Within  the  territory  of  Irish  Ireland,  the  Gaelic 
language  was  fairly  widely  spread.  Men  read  Irish 
papers,  or  at  least  papers  that  wrote  about  Irish. 
As  for  class  distinction,  the  only  class  they  troubled 
themselves  about  were  language  classes.  It  was  not 
true,  as  native  speakers  believed,  that  all  Irish 
Irelanders  rode  bicycles  and  said  IA  bpe.%£,  but  they 
had  other  peculiarities.  They  could  all  dance  and 
dance  well.  They  said  they  never  waltzed,  but  one 
sometimes  had  doubts  about  the  truth  of  the  state- 
ment. They  could  all  sing.  If  some  sang  strangely, 

133 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

well,  perhaps  it  was  a  very  special  kind  of  reAn-n6r- 
"Irish  Irelanders"  were  not  all  poets  or  hurlers  (or 
poetesses  and  experts  at  c^nidsui-oe^xOc)  but  the 
proportion  of  poets  and  even  of  hurlers  among  them 
was  larger  than  that  in  the  outer  world.  In  reality, 
cycling  was  the  pastime  of  the  Irish  Irelander  rather 
than  any  more  traditional  sport.  Irish  Irelanders 
were  usually  temperate,  often  total  abstainers,  always 
earnest,  self-sacrificing,  of  high  character.  This 
is  the  army  that,  for  near  a  quarter  of  a  century,  has 
held  the  trenches  of  Irish  Ireland. 

But  what  of  the  other  Ireland,  that  paradox, 
un-Irish  Ireland.  We  may  for  the  moment  leave 
out  of  account  the  Unionists  huddled  in  the  far 
distance.  They  have  a  dim  Ireland  of  their  own,  a 
thing  so  faint  and  tenuous  that  it  is  little  more  than 
a  shadow  cast  across  the  face  of  Britain,  and  yet 
they  cling,  sometimes  even  cling  passionately,  to 
this  shadow.  The  other  Ireland,  lying  beyond  the 
lines  of  the  Gael,  is  far  from  being  Unionist,  what- 
ever else  it  may  be.  A  Unionist  at  an  election  cannot 
poll  ten  votes,  male  or  female,  out  of  its  population. 
It  is  sincerely  anti-Unionist;  but  it  comprises  every 
variety  of  political  opinion  from  the  out  and  out 
rebel  to  the  most  stodgy  Whig.  When  I  speak  of 
the  rebel  perhaps  some  of  you  will  think  of  that 
cunning  play,  Sable  and  Gold,  produced  at  the  Abbey 
Theatre  a  few  weeks  ago,  in  which  one  character, 
Gregory,  an  Irish  Irelander  of  over-tense  nerves, 
who  in  the  end  proves  a  coward,  is  contrasted  with 
Paul,  a  representative  of  that  other  uncaring  Ireland 
of  which  I  now  speak,  who  meets  death  with  courage. 
If  this  contrast  is  intended  as  typical,  it  certainly  is 
not  supported  by  the  facts.  No  one  can  say  that 
Irish  Irelanders  have  shown  themselves  wanting 
in  courage.  The  profession  of  anti-national  and 
anti-militarist  sentiments  is  not  usually  associated 
with  military  qualities.  But  for  good  or  for  evil* 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

Paul  in  the  play  does  stand  for  a  great  class,  perhaps 
the  largest  class  of  our  fellow-countrymen,  sound  at 
heart,  but  only  at  heart.  Or  would  it  be  more  true 
to  say  that  every  Irishman  has  in  him  a  Paul  and  a 
Gregory,  a  striver  after  ideals  and  a  complacent 
cynic.  It  depends  upon  which  half  of  him  gets  the 
upper  hand.  In  Irish  Ireland  one  type  prevails,  in 
"otherwise"  Ireland  the  cynics  and  the  complacents 
have  it  all  their  own  way.  A  short  holiday  this 
summer,  which  circumstances  ordained  should  be 
divided  almost  equally  between  a  well-known  Irish 
college  and  an  equally  well-known  seaside  resort, 
brought  me  sharply  up  against  the  contrast  of  the 
two  civilizations.  It  might  have  been  Rostrevor 
and  Omeath,  or  Cloghaneely  and  Bundoran,  or 
Spiddal  and  Salthill,  or  perhaps  it  was  somewhere 
else  altogether.  At  any  rate  there  was  only  one 
thing  in  which  the  college  and  the  seaside  resort 
agreed,  that  is  politics.  Both  were  Sinn  Fe"in.  Or 
rather  there  were  two ;  for  both  college  and  resort 
were  fond  of  picnics. 

In  everything  else  they  were  in  sharp  disagreement. 
The  college  was  of  course  situate  in  the  territory  of 
"  Irish  Ireland,"  both  morally  and  physically ;  in 
fact  it  was  not  very  far  from  its  capital.  The  sea- 
side resort  lay  in  "  otherwise "  Ireland.  There 
were  Irish  Irelanders  in  the  resort,  strong  "  Irish 
Irelanders."  One  met  them  and  spoke  to  them  in 
Gaelic.  But  the  Irish  Irelanders  in  the  resort 
were  as  thoroughly  suppressed  as  the  "otherwise 
Irelanders" — I  am  sure  there  were  some — in  the  Irish 
College.  One  man  in  a  bathing  costume  is  no  match 
for  ten  men — and  still  less  for  ten  women.  At  first 
sight  the  pre-occupations  of  the  college  and  the 
resort,  even  apart  from  picnics,  seemed  alike.  The 
college  talked,  the  resort  talked ;  the  college  sang, 
the  resort  sang;  the  college  danced,  the  resort 
danced.  The  college  danced  the  Walls  of  Limerick 

135 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

and  the  Waves  of  Tory,  and  attempted  the  High 
Call  Cap.  The  resort  danced  the  half-time  waltz 
and  the  one  step,  and  attempted  the  Fox  Trot.  An 
Irish  dance  would  have  been  an  impossibility  there, 
or  at  least  an  "  unthinkability."  There  must  have 
been  nearly  as  much  Irish  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  seaside  resort  as  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
college — it  was  in  an  Irish-speaking  county — but  no 
one  ever  spoke  Irish  there  except  by  stealth.  In 
the  college  they  spoke  English  by  stealth,  and  some- 
times danced  the  Barn  Dance  and  the  Lancers  by 
stealth  privately,  when  the  official  c6iLi-6  was  over, 
though  I  have  seen  more  of  this  kind  of  thing  in 
other  places.  Perhaps  the  seaside  resort  harboured 
some  who  secretly  danced  pinnce  JTA-OAS  in  its  cata- 
combs ;  but  if  such  there  were,  one  did  not  come 
across  them.  The  college  played  Hurley  ineffectively, 
the  resort  played  golf,  also,  I  was  told,  ineffectively. 
The  college  sang  traditional  Irish  music,  and  sang 
it  well,  except  at  unauthorized  entertainments,  when, 
as  at  other  colleges,  the  contributions  were  by  no 
means  traditional.  One  heard  Irish  songs  at  a  few 
private  entertainments  at  the  seaside  resort.  But 
its  public  life  knew  nothing  of  them,  though  it  was, 
as  has  been  said,  fond  of  singing,  and  there  must 
have  been  Irish  traditional  singing  within  a  stone's 
throw. 

The  resort  was,  if  anything,  too  fond  of  music. 
When  one  was  starting  off  for  one's  first  swim  in  the 
morning — the  college  boated,  the  resort  swam — one 
could  hear  ladies  singing  about  roses  in  Picardy,  and 
those  roses  were  still  blooming  musically  when  one 
was  making  for  bed  in  the  evening.  Or  if  it  was 
not  roses  in  Picardy,  it  was  some  other  musical 
flowers  of  very  similar  odour ;  last  year's  flowers, 
English  ballads  beginning  to  "date."  And  then 
there  were  the  Indian  love  lyrics.  I  wonder  what 
Indians  think  of  them.  People  of  less  cultured  taste 
136 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

sang  "Good-bye-ee,"and"Oh,  Johnny,"  just  as  three 
years  ago  they  informed  us  musically  that  she  was 
the  only  good  girl  in  the  world,  and  that  another 
little  drink  would  not  do  them  any  harm.  The  last 
statement  was  plainly  untrue.  Two  years  hence  they 
will  be  singing — heaven  only  knows  what.  Caduca 
non  czterna  is  their  motto.  The  most  famous  Irish 
poet  came  from  the  county  in  which  the  seaside 
resort  was  situate,  but  I  am  quite  sure  not  six  people 
there  had  ever  heard  his  name. 

The  customary  thing  would  be  to  call  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  seaside  resort  fetiinini.  But  if  feCinin 
means  either  a  person  who  seeks  to  ingratiate  him- 
self or  herself  with  the  enemies  of  Ireland,  or  who 
pretends  to  a  social  position  above  that  which  is 
normally  his — its  two  commonest  meanings — it 
would  be  an  unfair  description  to  apply.  There 
never  were  men  and  women  who  put  on  less  "side" 
than  the  people  of  that  resort,  the  whole  spirit  of  the 
place  was  against  it;  there  were  scarcely  any  enemies 
there  to  ingratiate  yourself  with.  The  people  were 
just  "otherwise"  Irelanders,  people  dwelling  tem- 
porarily or  permanently  in  "otherwise"  Ireland. 
If  the  Irish  college  was  fairly  typical  of  one  side  of 
Ireland,  the  seaside  resort  was  also  typical,  typical 
of  a  whole  side  of  Irish  life,  perhaps  the  largest  side. 

What  are  the  ideas  and  tendencies  embodied  in 
this  other  Ireland  that  is  not  ours?  Some  of  them, 
no  doubt,  are  ideas  and  tendencies  that  call  for  the 
plainest  condemnation.  In  a  country  situate  as  ours 
is  there  will  always  be  a  number  of  mean  and 
unworthy  motives  tending  to  draw  men  away  from 
the  national  side.  The  boycott  of  Irish  games  in  a 
number  of  our  schools,  to  take  one  instance,  is 
inspired  by  no  motives  except  those  which  are  mean 
and  unworthy.  The  playing  of  un-Irish  games  by 
the  past  pupils  of  these  schools  is  not  necessarily  to 
be  attributed  to  the  same  motives,  because,  and  this 

137 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

is  what  makes  the  action  of  such  schools  so  criminal, 
it  is  nearly  impossible  to  acquire  real  skill  in  any 
game  after  fifteen,  or  even  earlier.  A  boy  so  trained 
is  condemned,  in  later  years,  to  choose  between 
athletic  inaction  and  being  cut  off  from  the  mass  of 
his  fellow-countrymen  by  a  strong  barrier.  I  say 
cut  off,  for  he  is  truly  cut  off;  it  is  the  unimportant 
things  in  life  that  really  count.  I  knew  a  man  once 
educated  at  one  of  our  big  schools,  who  was  a 
promising  bowler;  he  had  a  leg-break.  He  became 
a  Gaelic  Leaguer  and  gave  it  all  up  for  Ireland. 
Perhaps  you  don't  quite  realize  the  extent  of  this 
sacrifice.  You  never  had  a  leg-break;  neither  had  I. 
But  heroes  of  his  kind  are  rare.  As  a  rule  a  man 
prefers  his  cricket  to  his  country.  The  young  fellow 
of  whom  I  have  spoken  is  one  whose  name  is  now 
very  well  known  on  the  national  side.  His  sacrifice, 
however,  meant,  as  it  almost  always  does  mean,  his 
abandoning  athletics  altogether.  His  health  has 
been  poor  ever  since. 

So  much  for  games.  But  the  seaside  resort,  for 
instance,  troubled  itself  little  about  them,  except 
perhaps  about  golf,  which  some  people  say  was  intro- 
duced by  Cuchulain,  and  others  by  Arthur  Balfour, 
But  then  there  are  people  who  say  Cuchulain  was  a 
Liverpool  man.  What  of  the  other  points  of  the 
Irish  Ireland  programme?  You  can  start  Irish  at 
any  time  of  life;  whether  you  can  finish  it  is  another 
matter.  At  any  rate  you  can  start  dancing  at  any 
age  up  to  forty,  and  the  Walls  of  Limerick  is  distinctly 
easier  than  the  "  Half-time."  It  is  rather  a  mis- 
fortune that  while  the  charm  of  Irish  dancing  is  its 
elan,  its  gracefulness,  its  intimate  association  with 
the  music,the  whole  tendency  of  current  cosmopolitan 
dancing  is  the  other  way.  It  is  slow,  purposely 
ungraceful,  and  in  the  case  of  the  dance  last  men- 
tioned— the  most  popular  one,  the  Half-time — 
purposely  out  of  accord  with  the  music.  Again,  even 

138 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

if  you  can't  dance,  perhaps  you  can  sing.  There  are 
many  Irish  airs  quite  as  easy,  and  a  great  deal  more 
tuneful,  than  the  Indian  love  lyrics.  I  admit  that 
unlike  "  Oh  Johnny,"  etc.,  they  are  not  piping  hot 
from  a  bakery  of  song.  Even  if  you  can't  sing,  dance, 
or  learn  Irish,  the  most  hoarse,  clumsy  and  stupid 
person  can  buy  a  suit  of  Irish  tweeds,  and  so  pay 
tribute  to  the  Irish  Ireland  idea.  Of  course  you  then 
meet  the  difficulty  that  its  no  use  accepting  four 
points  out  of  the  Irish  Ireland  five.  Like  Clemenceau's 
French  Revolution  Irish  Ireland  must  be  accepted 
en  bloc.  But  that  is  not  the  whole  explanation  of 
what  keeps  people  away  from  the  Irish  Ireland 
trenches. 

I  come  now  to  a  point  where  I  speak  with  some 
hesitation.  The  commonplace  man  has  rather  a 
peculiarfeeling  towards  Irish  Irelandandall  its  works, 
something  I  conceive  like  the  feeling  that  a  great  many 
people  in  religious  agreement  with  Y.  M.  C.  ideals 
have  towards  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa- 
tion. As  I  said  earlier  in  the  lecture,  Irish  Irelanders 
are,  for  the  most  part,  men  of  high  character.  That's 
the  difficulty.  High  character  and  elevated  ideals 
inevitably  carry  a  suggestion  of  puritanism  and 
intellectualism.  And  .of  all  things  on  earth,  these 
are  the  two  that  frighten  the  commonplace  man 
most.  It  is  bad  enough  to  ask  him  to  attend  a  class, 
but  to  ask  him  to  amuse  himself  with  idealists,  male 
and  female,  of  high  character.  Nothing  will  make 
him  do  that.  You  point  to  the  amusements  of  Irish 
Ireland,  its  brightening  influences,  the  fact  that  the 
tea  is  always  good  at  c£ili-6s,  never  at  dances.  None 
of  those  things  will  take  the  bad  taste  out  of  his 
mouth,  the  taste  of  high  character.  Its  alleged  relaxa- 
tions are  much  too  tight  for  him  ;  he  can't  amuse 
himself  that  way.  In  fact  it's  one  of  the  difficulties 
of  a  country  situate  as  Ireland  is,  that  for  the  middle 
class  at  least,  it  is  only  the  high  life,  the  ideal  life, 

139 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

that  is  left  to  the  native  population  and  the  national 
side.  The  commonplace  unideal  life  of  card-tables, 
bars,  billiard  saloons,  music  halls,  race  meetings  and 
betting  shops  is  for  the  most  part  conquered  by  the 
forces  working  against  the  country.  That  is  a 
tremendous  extent  of  territory  to  leave  in  the 
enemies'  hands.  The  strength  of  the  G.A.A.,  as 
distinguished  from  the  other  and  newer  elements  of 
Irish  Ireland,  is  in  great  part  derived  from  the  fact 
that,  while  it  has  an  ideal,  it  has  also  a  large  side 
that  is  not  in  the  least  ideal,  but  rather  makes  an 
appeal  to  the  average  human.  Ordinary  men 
brought  within  the  ambit  of  the  G.A.A.  by  circum- 
stances must  often  be  under  the  same  sort  of  silent 
compulsion  to  be  Irish,  that  ordinary  men  outside  its 
influence  are  commonly  subjected  to  to  make  them 
anti-Irish. 

Much  of  what  has  gone  before  is,  perhaps,  more 
true  of  the  situation  existing  a  few  years  ago  than  of 
the  situation  to-day.  Events  have  been  working  in 
favour  of  Irish  Ireland,  and  it  has  now  a  tremendous 
opportunity  if  it  can  seize  it.  It  has  for  the  moment 
the  eager  sympathy  of  numberless  people  outside  its 
own  boundaries,  in  fact  of  the  vast  majority  of  the 
native  population.  The  man  in  the  "pub."  and 
even  the  man  on  the  racecourse  are  in  its  favour. 
The  national  party  of  the  day  incorporates  its  doc- 
trines in  its  programme.  How  is  it  to  turn  this  new 
situation  to  account,  and  make  converts  of  its  sympa- 
thizers ?  The  old  methods  and  the  old  programme 
will  hardly  do.  Even  Christianity  itself  underwent 
developments  in  formal  unessentials  when  it  came  out 
of  the  catacombs.  I  am  the  first  to  recognize  the 
great  importance  of  moral  qualities  and  high  ideals 
to  any  movement,  above  all  to  a  forward  movement. 
They  have  been  an  immense  strength  to  Irish 
Ireland.  But  if,  to  continue  our  metaphor,  the  cam- 
paign is  to  pass  from  a  trench  warfare  to  a  war  of 
140 


IRELAND,  IRISH  AND  OTHERWISE 

movement,  if  Irish  Ireland  is  to  conquer  the  popula- 
tion as  a  whole — as  Sinn  Fein  has  already  done  in 
politics — it  must  be  with  a  rule  of  life,  which,  not 
only  enthusiasts  and  intellectuals,  but  the  population 
as  a  whole  can  live  up  to.  Of  course  it  will  have 
its  counsels  of  perfection,  but  you  must  have  a  place 
for  the  inconsistent  weakling,  who  perpetually  falls 
away  from  national  grace.  You  must  put  up  with 
the  man  who  is  quite  willing  to  have  his  son  taught 
Irish,  but  wont  learn  it  himself,  who  plays  the 
wrong  sort  of  games,  sings  the  wrong  sort  of  songs. 
Excommunication  must  become  a  rare  process,  only 
to  be  invoked  for  the  gravest  crimes.  In  fact  you 
will  have  to  be  content  with  a  sound  heart,  without 
asking  too  closely  whether  it  is  accompanied  by  a 
sound  head.  Above  all  you  must  make  it  clear  that 
high  character,  whether  high  living  or  high  thinking, 
is  not  a  condition  of  belonging  to  your  communion. 
And  you  must  do  this  freely  and  not  grudgingly. 
Some  may  think  these  very  dangerous  suggestions, 
involving  as  they  do,  if  not  a  lowering  of  the  flag,  at 
least  the  relaxation  of  a  discipline  that  has  been  the 
glory  of  our  forces,  that  has  given  them  so  much  of 
their  efficiency.  So  far  the  suggestions  are  tenta- 
tive. They  can  be  worked  out  by  others.  But  we 
all  feel  that  a  new  situation  and  a  new  generation 
has  arisen,  a  generation  remarkably  tolerant  of  those 
who  have  gone  before  them,  yet  having  enlarged 
ideals  of  its  own.  With  such  men  and  in  such  a 
situation,  with  a  sympathy  so  widespread  in  favour 
of  the  Irish  point  of  view,  some  change  in  the  rule 
and  the  programme  that  has  done  service  these 
twenty  years  is  necessary.  The  golden  moment  has 
come  at  last ;  the  youth  of  Ireland  are  eager  to  be 
its  saviours;  but  they  will  save  it  in  their  own  way. 


POLICIES  IN  IRELAND 

For  the  last  hundred  years  three  main  policies 
have  been  advocated  by  different  parties: 

(1)  To  drive  the  English  out  of  Ireland. 

(2)  To  drive  the  Protestants  out  of  Ireland. 

(3)  To  drive  everybody  out  of  Ireland. 

The  three  policies  have  flourished  under  different 
names  at  different  times.  And  at  all  times  they  have 
been  more  practised  than  avowed,  but  in  the  termi- 
nology of  our  own  time,  they  correspond  very 
roughly  to 

(1)  Sinn  Fein. 

(2)  "The  Constitutional  Movement." 

(3)  Unionism. 

Sinn  Fein  would  admit  the  statement  of  its  object 
just  given.  Unionism  and  the  late  "  Constitutional 
Movement"  would,  on  the  other  hand,  almost  cer- 
tainly deny  with  heat  that  they  had  any  purpose  of 
denuding  the  island  of  Protestants  or  of  its  popula- 
tion respectively.  Let  us  take  the  case  of  Unionism 
first.  It  is  of  course  only  a  minority  of  Unionists 
who  admit  to  a  plain  malevolence  of  motive.  Yet, 
deep  embedded  in  the  soul  of  every  Unionist,  some- 
thing of  the  sort  will  be  found.  His  motive  is 
founded  on  a  sort  of  unofficial  strategy,  probably  a 
very  bad  strategy.  The  idea  is  something  like  this. 
The  great  danger  to  Great  Britain  from  the  position 
of  Ireland  is  that  at  some  time  the  island  might  be 
occupied  by  a  hostile  invading  force ;  but  it  would 
be  supremely  difficult  for  such  a  force  to  keep  up  its 
142 


POLICIES  IN  IRELAND 

line  of  communications  by  sea.  Hence,  if  Ireland 
were  a  desolate  and  uninhabited  island  such  a  force 
must  soon  perish  ;  a  desert  is  one  of  the  best  strategic 
boundaries.  (It  may  be  pointed  out  that  this  result 
would  in  no  way  prevent  mankind  from  enjoying 
the  admittedly  beautiful  scenery  of  the  island  in  peace 
time,  as  all  the  really  good  Irish  scenery  lies  near 
the  coast,  and,  as  in  the  case  of  Greece  and  Norway, 
could  be  visited  by  a  sea-trip.)  A  desire  to  see  Ireland 
desolate,  uninhabited,  and  thus  strategically  safe,  is 
really  at  the  bottom  of  all  Unionism.  The  late 
Lord  Salisbury  was  its  greatest  name,  and  under 
his  sure  guidance  the  policy  attained  large  success. 
During  the  "twenty  years  of  resolute  government," 
the  space  intervening  between  the  two  viceroyalties 
of  the  Aberdeens,  not  far  short  of  a  million  persons 
left  Ireland  for  ever,  about  a  fifth  of  its  population. 
All  Unionists  look  upon  these  two  decades  as  the 
golden  age  of  Unionist  policy.  Lord  Salisbury  and 
his  sovereign  handed  over  near  a  million  Irishmen 
to  the  United  States,  much  as  he  handed  over  Heli- 
goland to  Germany.  It  is  only  fair  to  say  that  in 
pursuit  of  the  policy  of  extermination  the  Unionist 
Protestant  is  genuinely  unselfish.  Like  the  bee  that 
perishes  in  stinging,  he  is  quite  ready  that  he  and 
his  should  perish — and  they  are  in  fact  exterminated 
in  an  even  greater  proportion  than  the  native 
population — if  only  the  eventual  decivilization  and 
depopulation  of  Ireland  can  be  brought  about. 
Hence  it  is  that  the  Unionist  Protestant  rears  his 
children  for  export ;  has  them  educated  in  another 
country  or,  if  through  financial  causes  that  be 
impossible,  brings  them  up  in  an  intellectual  exile 
from  the  soil  on  which  they  dwell,  teaching  them 
that  everything  around  them  is  noxious,  that  all  good 
comes  from  without.  He  bids  them  play  cricket, 
because  the  boys  around  them  play  hurley;  if  those 
around  them  played  cricket,  he  would  have  them 

143 


POLICIES  IN  IRELAND 

play  lacrosse.  He  teaches  them  to  avoid  native 
literature.  Books  must  have  writers.  He  teaches 
them  to  avoid  native  manufactures,  because  manu- 
factures mean  men.  His  whole  support  always  goes 
out  to  the  evictor.  He  encourages  pasture  at 
the  expense  of  tillage.  He  drives  Plunkett  from 
Parliament.  The  Unionist  negative  runs  through 
everything,  stops  everything,  poisons  everything.  In 
the  last  working  out  Unionism  has  only  one  test  for 
every  proposal.  Will  it  leave  fewer  men  dwelling  in 
Ireland  ? 

In  speaking  of  Unionist-Protestants,  it  should  be 
said  I  refer  only  to  the  normal  mass  who  will  be 
found  marching  with  their  bishops  and  moderators 
on  any  public  question,  not  to  the  small  number  of 
enlightened  individuals,  the  handful  who  supported 
Miss  O'Brien  on  the  Conscription  question,  for 
instance.  Again,  the  terrible  nature  of  the  campaign 
of  destruction  does  not  prevent  numberless  kind  acts 
between  individuals  of  the  two  sides  like  the  wild 
flowers  that  spring  up  on  a  battlefield.  A  mass  hate 
has  little  to  do  with  the  sentiments  of  individuals. 
A  propaganda  so  terrible  as  that  described  has  very 
naturally  led  to  a  counter-movement — scarcely  less 
terrible  and  certainly  not  less  successful.  Men  said 
to  themselves  that  the  only  way  to  deal  with  an 
exterminator  was  to  exterminate  him.  And  they 
did  exterminate.  It  is  sometimes  said  that  the 
late  "constitutional  movement"  gained  no  successes, 
that  it  has  nothing  to  show,  that  its  movement  has 
been  cyclic,  that  at  a  named  point  you  will  find 
Redmond  or  Parnell  or  Butt  standing  just  where 
O'Connell  stood.  This  is  not  a  fair  statement. 
Unless  you  confine  it  to  the  Home  Rule  or  self- 
government  movement  alone,  the  statement  is,  in 
fact,  quite  untrue.  In  its  real,  its  unconfessed  object, 
the  "  constitutional  movement "  was,  up  to  about 
ten  years  ago,  very  successful,  perhaps  more  successful 
144 


POLICIES  IN  IRELAND 

even  than  Unionism.  For  amidst  professions  and 
aspirations  for  union  almost  as  benevolent  as  those 
of  Unionists  to  Ireland,  it  in  effect  drove  out  the 
Protestant  from  one  vantage  point  after  another,  as 
in  the  well-arranged  operations  of  a  modern  battle. 
O'Connell  found  the  Protestant  in  possession  of 
the  land,  the  commercial  wealth,  the  parliamentary 
representation,  the  official  church  and  its  revenues, 
the  central  officialdom,  the  magistracy  and  the  local 
government,  all  education  (University,  secondary 
and  primary),  the  bulk  of  the  professions,  and  all 
that  depended  on  these  things.  After  a  century  of 
the  "  constitutional  movement,"  mostly  a  movement 
of  passive  or"  semi-passive  "  resistance,  and  frequently 
helped  indirectly  by  physical  force,  from  O'Connell 
down  to  O'Brien,  the  Protestant  has  bee'n  driven 
from  his  educational  monopoly — the  University 
monopoly  was  broken  just  over  ten  years  ago — from 
his  religious  monopoly,  from  his  monopoly  of  the 
magistracy,  from  the  minor  ranks  of  the  central 
officialdom,  from  the  medical,  and  even  in  large  part 
from  the  legal  profession.  He  has  been  expelled 
almost  completely  from  the  ownership  of  land,  the 
parliamentary  representation  and  local  government. 
He  has  lost  all  that  depends  upon  them.  No  doubt 
he  is  still  represented  in  his  just  numerical  proportion, 
but  that  is  no  use  to  him,  especially  as  it  is  usually 
fairly  enlightened  men  who  so  represent  him.  What 
Protestant  ever  gave  a  fig  for  Protestant  Nationalist 
M.P.'s.  He  was  not  sucking  the  orange:  a  lemon 
was  more  to  his  taste.  The  Protestant  still  retains 
the  big  positions  in  the  central  government,  and 
most  of  the  mercantile  wealth — in  large  part  English 
agency;  he  has  rather  improved  his  position  in  retail 
trading.  But  that  and  the  dwindling  purchase 
money  of  what  was  once  his  land  is  all  that  is  left  to 
him.  A  series  of  movements — O'Connell's  Catholic 
Association,  Davitt's  Land  League,  O'Brien's  United 

L  145 


POLICIES  IN  IRELAND 

Irish  League,  aided  indeed  by  the  aftermath  and  the 
ever  present  possibility  of  Fenianism,  have  brought 
this  about.  Looked  at  collectively  they  fall  under 
the  not  very  fit  nameof  the  "  constitutional  movement." 

In  driving  out  Protestants,  the  "  constitutional 
movement "  was  most  successful.  But  in  the  inter- 
vals of  its  successes  in  this  matter  it  engaged  in  a 
movement  of  quite  a  different  and  far  more  high- 
souled  character,  in  which  its  failure  was  uniform, 
so  uniform,  indeed,  that  it  caused  its  ruin.  This 
movement  has  assumed  diverse  forms  and  gone  under 
different  aliases:  Repeal,  Federalism,  Home  Govern- 
ment, Home  Rule,  Devolution,  Colonial  Home  Rule. 
But  they  have  all  had  this  in  common.  They  have 
proposed  to  vary  the  policy  of  driving  the  English  out 
of  Ireland,  by  persuading  the  English  to  retire  from 
Ireland,  in  whole  or  in  part ;  they  have  depended 
much  on  Parliamentary  action.  None  of  these  efforts 
has  had  any  success  whatever.  They  have  all 
advanced  to  a  certain  point  and  then  come  to  a 
sudden  stop,  whether  it  was  the  Clontarf  meeting, 
the  Curragh  revolt,  or — the  same  stone  wall  loomed 
up  in  each  case.  The  "  constitutional  movement  " 
has  been  very  effective  in  moving  Protestants,  but 
very  ineffective  in  moving  anything  else.  It  failed 
wholly  to  move  Englishmen.  Not  only  has  the 
Government  of  King  George  V  a  distinctly  stronger 
hold  on  Ireland  than  had  that  of  George  IV,  but  in 
all  commercial  matters,  banks,  railways  and  the  like, 
the  hold  of  the  unofficial  Englishman  has  greatly 
tightened  and  extended. 

The  most  striking  result  of  the  war  period  has 
been  the  cessation  of  the  two  movements  of  extermi- 
nation. Unionism  and  the  "constitutional  move- 
ment "  (except,  of  course,  in  its  ineffective,  or  "Home 
Rule  "  phase)  both  stayed  their  hands.  Indeed  the 
latter  may  be  now  said  to  have  gone  out  of  existence. 
The  Protestant  has  rather  improved  his  position  since 

146 


POLICIES  IN  IRELAND 

the  beginning  of  the  war  ;  in  its  first  months  he  even 
became  popular  and,  with  a  more  skilful  handling 
of  matters,  might  have  continued  so.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  extermination  of  the  Irish  population,  con- 
tinued for  so  many  years,  came  to  a  pause ;  Unionism, 
the  real  Unionism,  was  for  the  moment  put  out  of 
action.  In  the  stagnation  of  the  two  active  and 
successful  movements  that  had  so  long  divided  the 
country,  Sinn  Fein  has  progressed  enormously.  It 
has,  of  course,  been  helped  by  many  adventitious 
circumstances.  It  has  no  religious  bitterness. 
Having  few  Protestants  in  its  ranks,  it  has  no  hatred 
for  them,  no  desire  to  expel  them.  Constitutional 
agitation  cannot  flourish  without  a  constitution. 
The  old  safety  valves  of  Free  Speech  and  Emigration 
were  sealed  up.  Agricultural  prosperity  brought  the 
desire  for  freedom  as  it  always  does.  The  peasantry 
of  the  French  Revolution  were,  it  is  said,  the  most 
prosperous  in  Europe.  Asquith  and  Maxwell  each 
did  their  part.  It  is  not  proposed  here  to  discuss 
Sinn  Fein.  Down  to  a  few  years  ago  it  has  so  long 
been  dormant  that  it  has  no  such  recent  history1  by 
which  to  judge  it  as  have  the  rival  polices  of  "  Union- 
ism" and  the  "  constitutional  movement."  For  the 
last  four  years  they  in  their  turn  have  slept.  Sinn 
Fein  has  had  the  vigour  of  an  awakening.  If  it 
succeeds,  the  day  of  extermination  will  have  ended 
for  ever.  If  it  rails,  doubtless  the  old  policies  of 
extermination,  of  driving  out  Irishmen  and  driving 
out  Protestants  will  revive. 


1  This  was  written  about  a  year  ago. — A. E.G. 


147 


A     000031  144 


